Hayffie One Shots
by BlackCat46
Summary: Little one shots centred on Hayffie spread throughout their timeline. Prompts accepted here and on my Twitter. Translations upon request. Happy reading!
1. Puppy

_A/N: Hi! Welcome to my new collection of Hayffie one-shots. :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 **Puppy**

Haymitch is pacing the floor in his house, waiting for Effie to get back home. Just _why_ she had to agree to work with Peeta in the bakery is beyond him. They have money and she knows it. Only today, she's late. Really late. Peeta was home hours ago. She's still out and horrific scenarios are going through his head. He's just picturing her lying dead in a ditch somewhere, pulling his jacket on to go look for her when the door closes and Effie's cheery voice calls "Haymitch, I'm home!"

He runs to the hall to find her carrying her coat in a bundle, a smile dancing on her lips. He smiles slightly to see her alive and rushes over, hugging her tightly. "Where've you been hiding? I was just about to come looking for you," he tells her, burying his face in her soft hair.

"Ah, I've been... Somewhere. Haymitch, I have a surprise for you," she tells him, smiling.

He freezes and pulls back, looking at her in alarm, his arms still around her. "What is it? Oh, God, Effie, tell me it's not a baby," he groans.

"Well, I can't say it's _not_ a baby, but-" she starts, but cuts herself off at his despairing groan. "What?"

"No. This cannot be happening," he groans.

"Haymitch, before you go mad, I just want to finish my sentence. It's a baby but I'm not pregnant. We both know I can't have children. Do you want to see what took me so long?" she asks, looking at him in fond exasperation.

He looks at her curiously and approaches her cautiously. "How have you got a baby? I would have known if you'd been in the process of adoption," he says, sounding nervous.

"This was very spur-of-the-moment," she tells him, then unravels her coat carefully. Inside it is a very small, fuzzy brown thing, lying on its stomach, fast asleep.

"What is that?" Haymitch asks, nerves and relief flooding through him.

"He's a puppy. I thought, given that we'll never be parents to a human baby, why not go for a fur baby instead? This breed don't get all that big. They're the size of six week old wolfhound puppies when they're fully grown and they don't shed. He's perfect for us, right?" she tells him, smiling.

"We're not keeping it, are we?" he asks, amazed.

"Well, yes. He's ideal. You can name him," she offers.

He looks at the small, fluffy puppy, lying on Effie's coat, then sighs. "Eff, you could have said you were getting a dog," he tells her, really not prepared for a pet.

"He was a surprise for you! He was a surprise for me! He was the littlest of the litter, nobody wanted him. I couldn't resist him, Haymitch," she tells him, making her eyes widen pleadingly. "Please can we keep him?"

As if it was listening, the puppy looks up at him with big, pleading eyes. Haymitch groans "Not fair at all. Come on, this is manipulation!"

"Pretty please?" Effie begs, looking at him hopefully.

He groans, frustrated. "Fine! Fine, you can keep your dog. But you're looking after it," he tells her, caving in.

She bounces a little. "Thank you!" she squeals. "Wait! Have you got a name for him?"

Haymitch raises an eyebrow. "That wasn't you trying to convince me to let you keep it?" he asks, unconvinced.

"No. I really want you to name him," she beams.

He studies it, then smirks at her. "Brandy."

She smothers a smile at that. "Brandy?"

"Like the drink," he grins. "You said I could choose. So I did."

She giggles and hugs him. "Brandy it is," she agrees.

As though the puppy understands, it lifts its head and yaps quietly. Haymitch gently strokes its head and says "You keep her busy for me."

The puppy licks his finger in understanding. Effie giggles and smiles at Haymitch. "There we go. Are you glad he's here?"

"I'm grateful he'll keep you happy, Effie. But he doesn't come in the bedroom," he warns. "At all."

"Okay. No puppy in the bedroom," she agrees.

That doesn't stop Brandy going in there the next morning and licking their faces until they wake up.

* * *

 _Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send me your thoughts. Prompts are accepted here and on my Tumblr at emo-girl-in-the-tardis. xoxo_


	2. Meet Your Colleague

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 **Meet Your Colleague**

Haymitch is lounging in a chair in the Justice Building when his Escort enters. "Xenobia, get your neons out of my face," he groans.

Xenobia looks at him in disgust, then snaps "I'm only here to teach the new girl the ropes." She steps aside to reveal a small woman with a fluffy neon pink cloud on her head, a matching dress and heels. "After that, I'm out of here."

"Thank God," Haymitch mumbles. "So where's the new girl?"

"This is her!" Xenobia exclaims, gesturing to the small woman. "Introduce yourself, girl, come along!"

Haymitch laughs bitterly. "I thought that was your dog," he tells her, eyeing the smaller figure.

Xenobia sighs and gives her a push. "You need to be more assertive, you silly child. Come along, introduce yourself."

The woman steps up and gives him a small smile. "Hello, Mr Abernathy. I am your future Escort, Effie Trinket," she introduces, her voice clear and heavily accented.

"Trinket, huh? Fitting," he drawls, smirking at her. Haymitch grins. "Good luck, Princess. You'll need it."

"I doubt that highly," she clips, but is totally disregarded.

"Anything you wanna say to our latest nightmare?" Haymitch asks, smirking as he looks to Xenobia.

"Effie Trinket, meet your new colleague," Xenobia smiles to Effie coldly. "And may the odds be ever in your favour."

Effie's posture changes. Her eyes take on a shiny new determination. "Don't worry, Miss Thorne," she smiles, then directs her gaze to Haymitch. "They will be."

* * *

 _Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send me your thoughts. Prompts are accepted here and on my Tumblr at emo-girl-in-the-tardis. xoxo_


	3. Geese and Business

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 **Geese and Business**

"Geese! You had to get geese!" comes the shrill voice of someone Haymitch thought he'd never hear from again amidst honking noises.

He steps outside to see a bright pink cloud being chased around the Village by his geese, shrieking. "Hey!" he shouts. "Why are you winding up my geese?"

The pink cloud screams "Your geese are gonna eat me! Get these things away from me!"

He laughs and shakes the seed bag. "Come on, you lot!" he calls.

His geese abandon the screaming pink cloud and rush over to him, honking loudly. He herds them into their pen and throws in seed to reward them. The pink cloud hobbles over and looks up at him gratefully. "Thank you, Haymitch."

He grins. "No problem, Effs. Why are you dressed like a fluffy pink cloud?" he asks.

"Pink's all the rage. Why are you dressed like a homeless junkie?" she asks back, but there's a smile on her lips.

"Because it happens to be comfortable and good for decorating," he retorts.

"You're decorating?" she asks, hopefully.

"Well, not my place. I've got a small thing going," he admits. "That's how I can afford the geese. Our stipend for winning the Games isn't enough to pay the mortgage, the bills, these little guys and food. Not any more. So I took up a decorating business, too."

She nods and looks to the door. "Shall we discuss this inside?" she asks, hopefully.

He nods and gestures for her to go in there first. They sit in his kitchen and he pours her a glass of juice. "What about you? Any news?" he asks, curiously.

"Well, my dressmaking business is taking off," she starts. "I must admit, though, now that I can branch out, I did think of hiring more staff and setting up new stores in more of Panem."

He smiles a bit. "That'd be good for you. Making your name on your own."

She smiles back, sipping her juice. "It would... But I don't think I could cope. I'd need someone by my side."

He tilts his head at her. "You need a co-designer?" he asks.

"No. A co-founder. Someone to help me run the business," she tells him.

He grins. "Well, if you're okay with having a decorating business on the side, I'll help you out," he offers.

Effie lights up. "Oh, Haymitch... Do you really mean that?" she asks.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asks. "You want to do this?"

She grins brightly. "Yes, please."

He smiles and does something he never thought he'd do again. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes her gently. "Welcome to hell, Princess," he mutters jokingly.

"Yes... Welcome home," she laughs, leaning into his hold, her arm around his waist.


	4. Visiting The Kids

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _This was prompted by a Guest reviewer, who I thank deeply. Here is your story and I hope you enjoy it. :)_

 **Visiting The Kids**

Haymitch glares at Effie as she straightens his tie. "You get me out of Twelve and move me off to Four and now you're dragging me back there and for what?" he grumbles.

"For Katniss's birthday, dear. You and I both know she's never had much celebration. We're going to go for the weekend and you are not allowed to complain at all until we get home. I'm not having you whine all through our girl's twenty first birthday," she tells him, her voice gentle but firm.

"And if I do?" he asks, raising his eyebrow at her.

"Then you will have survived the Hunger Games against forty seven other Tributes, a Revolution, two moody, messed up children and marriage to die at the hands of a skinny bundle of pink sunshine that hardly tips a scale at one hundred pounds soaking wet. Fight me if you dare, but you will not mess this up for her," she warns.

He nods, utterly terrified, even though he'll never admit to being scared of his wife. "You got it," he mutters.

"I know," she smiles and kisses his lips.

* * *

They're met off the train by Katniss and Peeta, who fling themselves at the older couple happily. Effie is first embraced by Peeta, where Haymitch is tackled by Katniss. Peeta whispers "Effie... When we get to the house, I have something huge to talk to you about."

Katniss clings to Haymitch. "I've missed you," she whispers and Haymitch knows something's amiss. She'd never openly admit that.

"We'll talk later," he whispers back and lets her go, letting Peeta embrace him next as Katniss buries her face in Effie's shoulder. "Hey, kid," he whispers.

"Haymitch," he whispers back. "We need to talk. You, Effie and me."

Haymitch is starting to wonder now. Meanwhile, Katniss whispers to Effie "I missed you."

Effie knows something's up, knowing Katniss better now. "I missed you, too, my girl. We'll talk later, yes?" she whispers back.

Katniss nods and snuggles into Effie's hold before letting go. "Shall we go back to the house?" Peeta asks.

They all nod eagerly, Haymitch and Effie dragging their bags with them. Haymitch whispers to Effie, the younger couple moving ahead, slightly out of earshot and rather distant from each other, "They acting weird?"

"A little," she agrees softly. "I'm curious now, I thought I was the only one who had noticed."

He kisses her cheek. "Not at all," he whispers.

* * *

They sit in the living room of the Everdeen-Mellark residence, eating sandwiches, cakes and crackers with homemade lemonade when Katniss asks "How's life in Four?"

Haymitch groans dramatically. "It's horrible. This evil blonde demon gets me up to swim every day in the spring, summer and fall, then in winter she has me in her private gym. She's a monster," he complains.

"I take an interest in keeping him fit and healthy," she corrects.

"She makes me drink these monstrosities called smoothies," he groans.

Effie sighs "They're good for you." She turns the conversation around and asks "How is life here in Twelve?"

Katniss nods. "It's okay. Peeta's opened that new bakery and he's hiring some of the less fortunate," she tells them, smiling a bit.

Peeta adds "And Kat's been teaching archery."

"That's wonderful!" Effie exclaims.

Haymitch grins and says "What she said, but quieter."

Another jab in the ribs from Effie, entertaining Katniss and Peeta endlessly. After an hour or so, Katniss shoots Effie a look, asking her for something, then stands. "Just gotta run to the bathroom," she says, then leaves.

Effie, concerned, looks to Haymitch. "I'll go see," she mouths and runs off after Katniss.

Upstairs, she finds Katniss curled on hers and Peeta's bed. She looks to Effie helplessly. "Effie, I need your help. I don't know who else to talk to," she whispers sadly.

"What's the matter, darling?" Effie asks, wrapping her arm around Katniss's shoulders.

She looks up, terrified. "Effie, I skipped my period," she whispers.

Effie's eyes go wide. "You skipped a period? Have you considered why?" she asks, holding her close.

Katniss nods, shaking. "Best case scenario, I'm stressed. Worst case scenario, I'm dying of some sort of disease. Somewhere between..." she chokes, then bursts into tears. "Effie, what do I do?"

Worry flooding her, Effie hugs Katniss close and strokes her hair. "The safest thing to do is take a test," she whispers. "If it's negative, we'll get you a doctor."

"Effie, I don't want to be a mom," Katniss gulps.

"I know, honey," she whispers. "We'll sort this all out."

* * *

"Haymitch, when you asked Effie to marry you... How did you do it?" Peeta asks, looking nervous.

Haymitch stares at him. "You're planning to ask the girl to marry you?" he asks, grinning a bit.

"Y-yeah," Peeta gets out, clearly hesitant. "How did you ask Effie? Was it really romantic?"

"Nope," Haymitch replies, popping the _P_. "It was the least romantic thing ever. She'd just fallen off a surfboard and smacked her head. She was dazed but alert. Guess we were both pretty happy to finally have it out of the way."

"Okay. So I don't have to make it huge for her?" Peeta asks. "Because I was planning to do it tonight."

Haymitch nods. "That should be great. Not many witnesses. She'll like that," he replies thoughtfully.

Peeta nods, then asks "I don't want to get too ahead of myself, but if she accepts, will you walk her down the aisle?"

Haymitch nods a little. "Yeah," he agrees. "I will, yeah."

Peeta grins. "Thanks, Haymitch."

* * *

Katniss finally lifts her head from Effie's shoulder. "Do you have a pregnancy test?" Effie asks, nervously.

"N-no," Katniss sobs. "Never thought I'd need one."

Effie nods and wipes Katniss's cheeks with gentle fingers. "Okay. I think I may have one in my bag," she whispers. "Are you okay with it if I go and check?"

Katniss looks curious and scared silly. "Why would you have one?" she asks. "Are you...?"

"No, my girl. I had a scare a short while ago," she murmurs, stroking her cheek. "Nothing, but I do have tests anyway. Is it okay if I get you one?"

Katniss nods and Effie runs off. She returns minutes later and passes her the test. "Thanks, Effie. Oh, God, I'm so scared."

"I know, honey," Effie whispers, kissing her forehead. "Do you need some company? Not in a creepy way. Just moral support?"

"No, thanks," Katniss whispers. Effie waits outside. "Come in here, please," she begs.

"Are you alright?" Effie asks, her eyes covered tightly.

"I don't know..." Minutes later, Katniss sighs in relief. "Negative."

She's up, dressed and washing her hands before Effie can uncover her eyes. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, there's blood on it... And in the bottom of the toilet," Katniss says, relieved. "My period was late."

Effie sighs in relief. "Good. You're too young to be facing motherhood," she whispers and hugs her.

"What about you? Don't you want kids?" Katniss asks.

"No. I have you, Peeta and Haymitch. Three is enough," she says, laughing a little.

* * *

At supper, Peeta clears his throat and says "If nobody minds, I have something I'd like to do."

Effie gestures for him to go ahead and Haymitch nods. Katniss asks "What is it?"

He kneels in front of her and Effie covers her mouth in surprise. Peeta looks at Katniss with warmth and love, then says "Katniss, you are my love, my light and I can't imagine a life without you. You're beautiful, wonderful and everything I've ever loved. Will you do me the honour of becoming Mrs Mellark?"

Effie grabs Haymitch's hand under the table while Katniss stares at Peeta. After an agonising age, which could only really have been about five minutes, Katniss whispers "Yes."

Effie shrieks in delight. Haymitch shushes her, but they all can see how happy he is. Peeta brings out the champagne. This is by far Katniss's favourite way to celebrate, she later decides, tucked up in her bed.

* * *

 _Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send me your thoughts. Prompts are accepted here and on my Tumblr at emo-girl-in-the-tardis. xoxo_


	5. Good Things Come From The Shadows of the

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _This is dedicated to my amazing best friend in honour of her birthday. Happy birthday to you! :D_

 **Good Things Come From The Shadows of the Night.**

The breeze blows around the young man as he slurs down his phone to some girl. Haymitch lies in wait, hearing his voice and thinking of his own girl, the young woman he had lost after his Games. He shakes his head to clear it of the thoughts. After all, it was well over thirty years ago. He hated being forced to remain forty years old for the rest of eternity. He pounces on the young guy and knocks him to the ground, his fangs dropping as he bites down on the man's neck, the sweet taste of alcohol blood hitting his tongue. The good thing about hunting in the higher ranks of the Capitol is that alcoholics are easy to find, everyone drinks in excess at parties. "Help..." the young man gurgles.

Haymitch smirks to himself. Idiot, he thinks. Who would come down here, knowing the rumours of murderers in this alley? He drains him, then snaps his neck, making it look as if he was exsanguinated before his neck was snapped. He leaves quickly, rushing out of the alley silently. If there's one thing being undead was good for, it's making quick escapes. Thirty years of being a middle aged man's not much fun for him, though. He misses being able to do regular things like age naturally, eat junk food and go out in daylight. He misses everything about being human.

* * *

The moon glows on her emaciated skin as she lies on the rooftop, watching the glittery stars, listening quietly to the very obvious vampire attack below. She smiles to herself, knowing she's no longer alone, running her fingers through her soft, blonde hair. The only time she's ever allowed to not wear her wig is when nobody but the other vampires are around. After all, they're supposed to be myths, who would they tell? And as an Escort to District Twelve, she has to go out in public, but whoever says she's never shaded is lying. The Justice Building shades her. She has a small parasol for hot, sunny days. She goes out when it's cloudy and raining heavily. She is, by most means, a very normal Capitol girl. She hears the vampire running and smiles, then sits up and whispers "Hey!"

The man, who she's astonished to recognise immediately as Haymitch Abernathy, jumps a mile, then approaches her, jumping onto the rooftop. "Trinket? Is that you? What happened to your usual garbage?" he asks, sounding just as surprised as she feels.

"Yes, it's me," she says, smiling. "You've been feeding."

He looks away. "Man's gotta eat," he mutters, looking embarrassed. "Regular food doesn't do anything."

She nods sadly. "One of the many things you miss, isn't it? Still, we shouldn't complain. Lots of people go without. At least we have enough here," she sighs, then winds her arm around his waist. "As for the garbage thing, do you see the sun blazing on us?"

He smirks. "Nope. Don't feel it, either," he tells her, studying her.

"Then why would I need it?" she asks, smiling, nestling into his hold. She'd been turned in the middle of a very angry rage with Haymitch, who had lost all control until she was nearly dead. He changed her then, essentially saving her life as he gave her immortality. She knows he regrets everything, but the way she sees it, she's been given a new chance. She turns to him, knowing he regrets it, then kisses him gently. "Hey, you. Penny for your thoughts," she mutters, snuggling up to him.

"Just thinking about how life could have gone if we were alive," he sighs, snuggling her close.

"How do you mean?" she asks softly.

He gives her a slightly bitter and rather wistful smile. "For one, you'd still be soft and breakable," he teases.

"I'm glad about that. It means I can beat you in a fight. Continue," she teases back, kissing his cheek.

He nudges her ribs gently, though he's grinning. "We'd be able to grow old," he sighs softly.

"Would you want to see us both old and wrinkled?" she teases.

He looks at her. "I don't know. I'd like to know how we'd look," he murmurs. "Whether we'd need canes or not. Who would win in wheelchair races."

"We can do that one anyway," she jokes. "Where do we get wheelchairs?"

He laughs at that and kisses her. "Maybe we ought to try it," he whispers. "What about you?"

She snuggles up to him. "You wouldn't be filled with regret," she murmurs. "Knowing you're hurting every day and night of your life is painful."

He strokes her cheek. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that, sweetheart," he murmurs and kisses her cheek.

"I do worry. Look, if we're confessing all, I may as well say it. When you changed me, you thought I was dead. You resented yourself for even biting me in the first place," she says, but he presses a finger to her lips.

"Princess, stop," he murmurs.

She yanks his hand away. "No. Listen to me. Just once. I know you regret it, but think about this from my perspective. Waking up to discover that the man I love is immortal was shocking. Having you tell me that you'd changed me into an immortal was even more shocking. The reality sank in and I realised something. I realised that you and me, we're going to spend eternity together. In a very literal sense. You turned me into someone who can love you forever. You and I are perfect together. Don't you ever regret this. That fight gave us everything we could ever need," she tells him, her voice passionate as she locks her small hand in his hair and kisses him gently.

He kisses her back, reeling a tiny bit from her words, then breaks away. "Effie, I turned you into a mythological creature. I took away your daytime pleasures. I destroyed your ability to physically change, to have periods, to have children. I stopped your heart beating," he whispers, clutching her. "I turned you into a blood-drinking killer."

"You gave me eternity with the man I love. I'm happy without sunlight, I'm happy being a mythological creature. You gave me every woman's dream when you changed me, I don't have to have periods! That's an utter delight in itself!" she exclaims, pausing to grin a bit about not having to bleed every month.

"You can't have children, either," he tells her, feeling bad because he took that ability from her.

She smiles back at him. "I was never very inclined to have children," she tells him, happily. "I never understood the appeal of vomiting, cravings, having to carry around a human being inside you, acne, weight gain, stretch marks, et cetera, et cetera, only to end up looking after a small, squirming thing that wails at every hour of the day and night, that vomits and poops on you, that requires a lot of work, money and love. It just seems so unappealing. So that doesn't matter much to me."

He kisses her again. "What about being a killer?"

She shakes her head. "That's something everyone has to do. If not directly, then indirectly through eating meat and wearing leather," she says sadly. "It's a fact of nature. We don't have to like it. We do it for survival."

"That's true," he sighs. He kisses her again and whispers into her ear "I love you, my little demon."

She giggles and kisses him back. "I love you too, my big, snuggly demon," she whispers, hugging him close.

* * *

They make their way back to the Tribute Centre an hour before dawn, hiding away together with a bottle of stolen blood from the medical bay downstairs and snuggling up with each other. "Hey, Princess?" he asks softly, cuddling her close.

She looks up at him happily. "Yes, darling?" she asks warmly, kissing his cheek, her arms around him.

"Marry me?" he whispers softly into her ear.

Her crystal blue eyes go wide. "D-do you mean that?" she asks, surprised.

"Yeah, of course I mean it," he whispers, smiling at her.

"Yes," she murmurs, her smile getting wider. "I'll marry you."

Haymitch gives her a small silver ring with a heart shaped ruby in the centre, feeling happiness flood through him as he watches her slide it onto her finger. He kisses her gently and strokes her hair. "I guess eternal life won't be too bad," he whispers against her lips. "Not now that I have you."

She grins and murmurs "No... I'll make it far, far worse for you."

He laughs and kisses her again. Sometimes, good things come from the shadows of the night.

* * *

 _A/N 2: That's it for today! Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	6. Of Trinkets And Horror Movies

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) To Phoenixsword24, I will do the idea you came up with as its own story. It's a brilliant suggestion and has taken a life of its own. Thank you and it is in progress as we speak. :) In the meantime, please enjoy a slightly weirder one._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _Disclaimer 2: I also do not own Dead Silence, its plot, script, characters or world. All rights go to creators, crew and producers, of which I am none, just a fanfic writer._**

 **Of Trinkets and Horror Movies**

"Don't do it... Don't you dare open that door! No! It'll be bad!" she squeaks. "She's in there!"

The old man opens the closet door and crawls in calling "Marion? Marion? Marion? Now, you come on out now."

"Nooo..." Effie whimpers, clutching her pillow as the old man continues calling for his senile wife. The closet door slams shut and he calls for his wife. Something flits past him and he screams. She covers her face with the pillow, knowing what's coming.

.

"Effie? You home yet?" Haymitch calls, walking through the hall. He walks into the living room and finds a quaking heap of pillows and blankets in a corner. "What in the name of Panem...? Effie? Is that heap you?"

"Don't scream... Not Mitch... Don't scream... Get killed..." the heap whimpers in a tiny voice, rocking and sobbing softly.

"Who's getting killed?" he asks softly, kneeling by the heap. "Effie, what's going on?"

Two small hands shoot out of the heap, followed by a tear-stained, terrified face with messy blonde hair. One hand grabs his shirt and the other slaps him, the small woman pouncing and knocking him to the ground. "Fight me, demonic entity! I'm small and deadly and totally here! You're an imprint!" she squeals, pinning him to the ground and slapping at him. "I don't want you imitating my Haymitch!"

"Who's imitating me? Effie, have you been at the liquor?" he asks, shocked. He gets another slap. "Quit hitting me, woman, I haven't done anything!"

"Fight me, Mary! Bring it on! Be a real woman!" she yells, slapping him again.

"My name's not Mary!" he exclaims.

"That's _exactly_ what you'd say if you were Mary and trying to kill me!" she shouts. "You're not going to kill me!"

"Effie!" he yells and grabs her wrists with one hand, pulling her to him with the other, sitting up. "What did you see?"

She growls "Get off me!"

He rubs her back gently. "Effie... Talk. What did you see?" he asks.

"You're not making me scream, ghost lady!" she exclaims, wriggling.

He pieces it together and glances at the television set. He has to fight not to laugh. "You watched Dead Silence, didn't you, Princess?" he asks, trying not to laugh at her.

She squeaks "Yes! You were watching me, weren't you? Planning to eat my tongue like you did to that poor man and his whole family!"

"No, Effie. Look, ask me something only you and I know," he offers.

"What's my niece's middle name?" she asks softly.

"Lee. Annabella Lee Thorne," he replies quietly.

She whimpers and wraps her arms around him. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Inside the fort," she whispers, tugging on him. He obeys her, still struggling not to laugh at her rather adorable reaction to a horror movie. Once in there, she shields him from the supposed threat and whispers "I'm scared that she'll hurt us."

Haymitch can't help laughing this time. "Listen, Effie, while that's incredibly sweet of you, you're paranoid. She's not real. Okay? She's a character in a story," he tells her, grinning. "You got scared over a film. It's okay."

She looks at him. "I don't trust her," she whispers.

"Good. It's sweet that even after all you've been through, it's a movie scaring the sense out of you. You're so cute," he tells her, then shifts her so that she's lying in his arms. "I won't let anything so much as look at you in a bad way again. Okay?"

"Yes... But I'm still dangerous enough to protect my man," she whispers, cuddling up to him.

"Hey, as your man and the killer in this duo, it's my job to protect you," he whispers, kissing her cheek. "I did learn something though."

"Ooh, do share!" she squeaks, looking happier at the prospect of learning.

"In a battle of Trinkets and horror movies, the Trinket always comes worst off," he tells her, smirking.

"I owe you a new copy of Dead Silence, then," she murmurs.

"What did you do it?" he asks.

"Threw it at my shadow because it scared me," she admits.

He bursts out laughing again. "And this is why I keep horror movies on a high shelf. Out of little Effie reach," he jokes. He realises something and looks at her curiously. "I had that on a high shelf, out of your reach. How'd you get it?"

"I used a chair and a pair of three inch heels," she tells him, smiling a bit. "We also need a new chair."

"What'd you do to the chair?" he asks.

"Fell over it and snapped the back and leg off it," she murmurs, blushing. He laughs even harder and hugs her close. "It isn't funny, I was terrified!"

"I know, Princess, I know. You're just so cute when you're scared. Don't go getting horror movies out when I'm not around to keep you company," he tells her, kissing her forehead.

"Bedtime?" she asks, hopefully. "An eventful night leads to tiredness."

"Bedtime," he agrees and kisses her lips. Her frazzled nerves amuse him once more as he decides to jump out from behind their bedroom door as she walks in and grab her, growling "Gotcha!" into her ear.

Her resulting shriek echoes throughout their silent home. He doesn't stop laughing even as she slaps at his chest, ranting about scaring her like that. After all, how many opportunities to scare her is he really going to get?

* * *

 _A/N: I laughed myself silly writing this in the early hours of the morning. I hope you enjoyed it. Remember, if you have prompts, you can message me here or prompt me on my Tumblr at emo-girl-in-the-tardis. Feel free to drop a comment below, I swear I don't bite. Until next week, my lovely readers! BlackCat46. xoxo_


	7. It's In The Past

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 **It's In The Past.**

She keeps them all under her bed, in box she's locked with a key. Nobody has ever seen the content of this box. They've seen it, many times. But not once have they seen the content. So when she's busy, she hardly notices that her key is gone. The key she keeps around her neck is missing.

* * *

He, meanwhile, is in her room, determined to find out exactly what she's hiding in that box and its secrets. He _needs_ to know. He suspects it could be anything from pictures of her as a young child, her and an ex she was never too keen to mention, a possible miscarried or aborted or adopted child of hers, her parents, her siblings, her grandparents or maybe she's a jewel thief. Anything could be possible. He never would know. So he sneaks in and pulls her box out. He hesitates, wondering if he should invade her privacy like this. Curiosity beats him to the punch. He unlocks the box and lifts the lid. Inside are magazines, photographs, award certificates, newspaper clippings and letters. He lifts a newspaper clipping and unfolds it, wondering what it is. He sees a picture of her smiling, wearing some monstrosity of a dress and heels, striking a pose for the camera. It's an announcement of her retirement and transition. "She was a model?" he whispers, amazed.

He lifts a magazine and is reading an interview with her and watching her poses when a high-pitched voice asks "What do you think you're doing?"

He looks up, shocked and ashamed of himself as he meets the stunned gaze of this same woman. "Effie," he greets and he winces to hear his own guilt and see her glare. "I was-"

He falters under the glare that would have had him lay on the floor dead, were looks able to kill. "I can see what you're doing, Haymitch Abernathy. And I will thank you to put that back, along with the newspaper clipping. There is a reason all of this is locked away," she tells him, her voice like a knife, cold, sharp and unforgiving.

"Why'd you stop?" he asks, curiously.

"It's in the past," she deflects coldly. "Just put my things back and forget everything you saw."

"Not a chance," he tells her, putting her things back and locking them away. He pushes it back under her bed, stands and gives her the key back.

"Thank you. Please don't tell anyone else. I've tried to leave it behind me and it's only just died out," she tells him, her eyes almost pleading under the heavy blue glitter lashes she's wearing.

He nods. "It doesn't leave this room," he promises, nodding at her as he moves past her to leave. As he grabs the door handle, he looks back at her. "For what it's worth, Effie, you're still pretty enough to model."

He leaves before she can respond. She stands in silence before allowing a small smile to appear on her lips. Some things would never leave that room. And for that, she was truly grateful.


	8. Like Our Own

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _This was prompted by a Guest reviewer, who I thank deeply. Here is your story and I hope you enjoy it. :)_

 **Like Our Own**

The sunrise had always been a sign to go to bed for Haymitch, who's had more than his fill of night terrors. But since Peeta had returned and moved back to Twelve, dragging a very lonely and terrified Effie with him, he'd been too busy to have nightmares or alcohol. After a while, instead of falling asleep at the first ray of light, he was waking up to shouts and screams and thrashing bed covers. He doesn't have nightmares now, passing out from exhaustion at sundown and waking at sunrise to a screaming and writhing woman. This morning is different. He's awake at sunrise. He's not comforting Effie. She's peacefully snuggled against his side, her face softened and smiling a little, her slender arms around him and her leg hooked over his knees. She's softly murmuring when a yell of _"Mutt!"_ from the opposite side of the street startles them both out of their peaceful slumber.

"What was that?" Effie mumbles against Haymitch's ribs.

"I don't kn-" Haymitch begins, only to be cut off by another shout, this time female and indistinct.

"The kids," she gasps and flings herself out of bed, her feet landing immediately in her slippers and her robe on in a heartbeat. "Up, now!"

She's out of the house and over the road before Haymitch can process what's happening. He follows her quickly, tying his robe as he rushes in to the Everdeen-Mellark house. "What's going on?" he asks, taking in the sight before him.

Katniss, her hair still sticking up in different directions, flings herself at him from Effie's arms. "H-he had a- a nightm-mare and i-it triggered him a-and he... He's h-having an epi-episode! H-he tried to hu-hurt me, Haymitch," she sobs.

Effie stands and nods to Katniss, telling Haymitch to calm her while she goes to Peeta, knowing what he's suffering better than anyone. She hears wood splintering and rushes into his and Katniss's room. "Peeta?" she asks quietly.

The boy- _young man_ , she corrects mentally- stops in his tracks. His eyes are feral and he doesn't look safe to be near, but she knows she needs to try, for his sake. There's a flicker of recognition and he pounces, pulling her to him. "Effie," he breathes, holding her to him before holding her behind him. "I won't let the mutt get you."

She rests a hand on his shoulder and turns him to her. "Peeta, please will you sit down for a minute? It's been so long since we've had a real talk. I promise you that the mutts won't get us," she whispers, though it stings her to say it, knowing that Katniss is so far from ever being a mutt.

"Of course, Effie, anything," he tells her, his eyes feral and warily watching the door, clearly so mistrustful of anything and everything that isn't familiar. He trusts her because she was with him, because she gave him familiarity and understanding, she _knows._

* * *

"He was so nice last night," Katniss breathes, finally having stopped sobbing hysterically, even though her tears are still streaming down her cheeks. "He... He asked me to marry him."

Haymitch holds her, used to having to hold terrified people by now, wondering if he'd heard right and decides that this isn't the time to pursue that subject. "What did you say?" he asks, his voice so tender that it surprises even him.

She sniffs up and looks at him with watery grey eyes, so like his own that he marvels a little at the resemblance. "I said yes," she whispers hoarsely. "We were thrilled about it. But when I woke up, he was about to stab me and screaming in my face."

This brings on a whole new round of tears and all Haymitch knows how to do is hold her close to him and stroke her hair, helping her let it out. "How did you get away?"

"Effie burst in before he could and the noise distracted him," she sobs. "I ran downstairs and she caught me and tried to help until you got here, but I didn't want to set her off too."

He nods, knowing how it feels to walk on eggshells and trying not to trigger them like mines. "You did well, sweetheart," he whispers to her, holding on to her.

"He's been thinking about having a family," she whispers. "After the wedding. Not right away, he said, but he wants kids and when he flips out like this, it scares me so much that I have to ask if either of us are really stable enough to have them."

"Not yet," he whispers to her. "Give it time. Wait until you're both healed some more. It's not going to change overnight. It'll be a hard effort for you both. You'll both have relapses. You'll both have episodes. But after a while, you'll both be healed enough to think about it. Don't take a huge leap like that before you're ready, okay? Just wait until you both want them. Go into it in as much confidence as you can get."

"Would you and Effie want kids?" she asks.

He shakes his head. "We're not young like you, you know. She wasn't built for them before her captors beat her senseless and now she's infertile from that. As for me, the years of drink did their number. Neither of us were ever that keen on babies. We have you and Peeta. You're ours," he tells her, gently stroking her hair.

* * *

Upstairs, Effie's finally relaxed Peeta and got that wild and cautious look out of his eyes, allowing him to cuddle up to her, just how they'd cuddled for warmth in their cell. "Do you want to tell me about your dream?" she asks, her voice warm and tender.

He looks at her and asks "It was mainly about the war, so will you help?"

"In every way I can," she tells him kindly.

He watches her and says "We were in a cell. Cuddling like this. Katniss came in and injected me with something, a green sedative, before she tried to kill me and you protected me." He cups her cheek in his palm and whispers "Katniss, real or not real?"

"Not real, darling. That was a Peacemaker," she tells him, cuddling him to her.

"You protected me, real or not real?" he asks, looking helpless.

"Real," she breathes, swallowing hard at the memory.

He looks at her ribs, covered by her robe, then moves his hand from her cheek to gently stroke his hand over a scar she knows she has. "The Peacekeeper stabbed you here when you protected me, real or not real?" he asks, watching her sadly.

"Real," she whispers, cuddling him.

He whispers "Why did you do that for me?"

She blinks back the tears before she murmurs "Because you're a son to me and worth more to me than life itself."

Peeta holds her and asks "Is Katniss my fiancee?"

Effie, having gathered this from Katniss's otherwise incomprehensible sobbing, nods. "She is, darling. You asked her last night," she whispers.

"Do I love her?" he asks.

"With every bit of your being," she tells him gently.

He gives her a hopeful look, as if she's the fountain of all knowledge, then asks "Does she love me?"

"More than she will ever be able to tell you in words," she murmurs, gently stroking his hair.

He presses his face against her neck and quietly asks "Did I hurt her?"

She rubs his back gently. "No, my darling boy. She just had a fright. She's okay and you are, too," she murmurs into his hair, holding him close to her.

"The nightmare had shiny qualities... Katniss and I were going to be parents, real or not real?" he asks.

"Not real. That was a ploy forged to prevent the Quell," she replies softly.

He frames her face with his hands and sees the well of tears in her eyes. "Were you and Haymitch supposed to be parents?" he asks softly.

"No," she breathes, looking sad. "He was already infertile from alcoholism. And after our time in the Capitol, there was no chance of it."

Peeta lets her cuddle him and asks "Didn't you ever want them?"

She squeezes him gently. "I have children. I have you and Katniss. And I love you both beyond measure," she murmurs, rubbing his back.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Effie brings Peeta to the living room. He looks guilty and sad, where she looks tired but relieved. Katniss springs to her feet and Haymitch stands, ready to protect Katniss if needs be. He looks to Effie and mouths "Safe?"

She nods and whispers into Peeta's ear, her hand between his shoulder blades. He steps forward and looks directly at Katniss before he speaks, his voice quiet but clear. "Katniss, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he tells her, looking miserable.

Katniss, still unnerved, steps closer to him and sees that he's back, her Peeta. She hugs him and whispers into his shoulder "It's okay. You're okay. We're okay. It's recovery. It's all okay."

Haymitch edges around them and wraps his arm around Effie's waist, hugging her gently. "Whatever you did, it worked," he mutters.

"I did what you taught me. Love them and guide them and everything just works itself out," she mutters back, smiling to watch the two younger adults kiss.

"Get a room!" Haymitch exclaims, earning himself a gentle nudge in the ribs from Effie. "What? It's payback."

"It's their home," she tells him, then waves to the younger two who wave back and return to their kissing while she drags him out of there. "Come on. I want a few more hours of sleep."

He kisses her gently and strokes her hair. "Fine by me," he whispers and lets her drag him back to their house. As soon as the door closes, he asks "Did Peeta talk about him and Katniss having kids?"

She nods. "He did," she replies quietly, her eyelids drooping as she sits on the sofa, sliding her slippers off.

"Do you ever regret not having kids?" he asks softly, sitting beside her and letting her lie on his chest.

"Darling, we do have children," she sighs sleepily, nestling up to him.

This jolts him out of his sleepy state and he presses a hand to her lower stomach, panic setting in. "You mean...?" he asks, terrified.

She laughs, the sound drained. "No, you mad man. You'd know if that was the case. Katniss and Peeta. They're ours and I know we both love them like our own," she sighs, pushing him onto his back and forcing his legs onto the sofa, then she lies on him, grabbing a throw from the back of the sofa and covering them up. "Now sleep, we have a whole day to discuss our messed up family."

Within minutes, she's asleep and Haymitch thinks, just as he drifts off, that he wouldn't trade her or the kids for anything at all. "Yeah... They're just like our own."

* * *

 _Not sure this was as good as it could be, but either way, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send me your thoughts. Prompts are accepted here and on my Tumblr at emo-girl-in-the-tardis. xoxo_


	9. Caught In A Tomb

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _This is one of my two updates, the one that was supposed to come last week but didn't. If you follow my Twitter, you'll already know what happened. But for those of you who don't, I am sorry to say that I had no way of updating this or any story last week as my foremost way of updating was out of use. My deepest apologies and I am posting twice on each story this week to make it up. *Hugs to all* Thank you for putting up with the absence. I will do my best to ensure that it doesn't happen again._

 _ **Caught In A Tomb**_

"Remind me, Effie. Why did I agree to visit a tomb from the pre-Dark Days seventeen hundreds with you?" growls Haymitch as he pulls on the yellow hard hat that Effie insists he looks good in. He feels ridiculous and annoyed at getting up before noon.

"Because, my dear nuisance, you said you wanted it dark, indoors and out of the way. The family and the cemetery owners have very kindly agreed to allow us entry. The least we can do is go in there now and explore. You said you wouldn't mind if you got alcohol out of it and you said yes when I said we can go for a meal with alcohol served in it afterward," she replies with the patient tone he's heard her use on Annie's sleepy and fussy two year old more than once. She looks up at him, her eyes pleading. "Can you just once pretend to be enthusiastic for one of these searches?"

"I can think of more things I'd rather be doing on a wet Saturday at eight in the morning if I'm honest, Princess," he growls, looking at her in annoyance.

"Well, you agreed. Besides, next week is your choice of activity, you know that," she snaps back, losing her patience a little bit now. "Are you joining me in this tomb or aren't you?"

"Why do you want to go into a corpse building anyway?" he asks, grouchily.

"Because I want to understand the past and their funeral rituals before the Dark Days," she sighs. "I've explained this before and I really shouldn't have to explain my interests. I don't make you explain your interest in sitting in bars all day every other Saturday. Or every other regular day, come to that. Now are you joining me or am I deriving pleasure from this experience alone?"

There's a small pout on her lips now. He groans "Fine, I'll come with you."

"Okay, then. Come on," she smiles, though he's annoyed her already.

He follows her down into the tomb and grumbles "Why don't we have kids, huh?"

She turns to him, her eyes wide. "Why would you want children? You have Katniss and Peeta and they've been enough children for us. What possessed you to think of that?" she asks, looking and sounding horrified.

"If we had something young and impressionable that loved you and your weirdness enough to do anything you asked without complaint, then maybe you'd stop bringing me into cemeteries and trying to give me educations that I could get from books if I wanted them," he reasons.

She looks up at him in offence. "Three things. One, you don't have to be here with me, I did give you an option. Two, if you want children, you're finding someone else, I'm not having babies. And three, if you didn't love me with all my weirdness, you wouldn't have let me live with you. If you're going to continue complaining at me, you can take my purse and go to the coffee shop that's just up the street and wait there for me to come to you," she tells him, then unzips her handbag and gives him her purse. Her eyes lock on his and narrow a little. "If you don't mind, I'm going to look around now."

He puts her purse back in her bag and zips it up, then awkwardly wraps his arms around her, still not used to giving anyone displays of tenderness and affection. "Effie," he murmurs into her hair. "I wouldn't ever leave you. You know that. I can't leave you. It's not right to be without my strange, shrill ball of weirdness."

"That's one way to say I love you," she mutters, but hugs him back anyway. "It's also still not getting you children or me out of this tomb until I've learned what I came in here to learn."

He smiles a bit and hugs her tightly. "Fine. Learn away," he smirks and sits on a long wooden crate. "Hey, Eff, why have they got wooden crates in here?"

She gasps in horror. "Haymitch, get up off that!" she yelps.

"Why, what is it?" he asks, totally unaware.

"It's a coffin!" she exclaims. "That coffin contains a person's remains!"

"Seriously?" he asks, curious. "What did they die of?"

"I don't know," she admits. "If I did, you'd have got the information on the way here."

"Am I allowed to open the box?" he asks, looking extremely interested now.

"I... I don't think we should," she whispers, looking at the coffin warily.

In the greyish light, he looks at the coffin closely. "Looks like someone already has," he tells her, his voice showing his intrigue.

"Don't talk silly, Haymitch, nobody's been in or out of this tomb since the day it was sealed," she replies calmly, examining the walls and reading the inscription.

"No, really, Eff, come look," he says, excitement layering each word.

She sighs and does as he asks. Her eyes go wide as she inspects the nails in the coffin lid, which are indeed bent, showing that the coffin hasn't only been opened once, but multiple times, rusted and broken. "Oh, my... You're right," she breathes, her heart skipping a beat.

Haymitch grins and stands, then checks the second one. "This one doesn't have the nails in it at all!" he exclaims. "They're all lined up by the coffin."

"Are you joking?" she asks, getting up to join him.

"No, seriously, look!" he nearly shouts, excited by this more than anything.

His excited look makes her smile, fondness and love flowing through her. "You're adorable," she laughs, walking over. "In a rather creepy way, you're so cute, getting excited by this."

"I'm not the cute one here, Princess," he tells her, then gives her a playful shove.

She squeaks as she loses her balance, knocking the coffin lid off the first coffin as she lands, smacking the back of her head on the solid concrete. "Oh! Ouch! Haymitch, be careful!" she chides, taking her helmet off and rubbing the back of her head. "Honestly... What are you doing now?"

He walks closer to the coffin and takes the lid off. "Effs? Bodies are supposed to decompose, right?" he asks quietly.

"Yes, dear, they are," she says as she puts her helmet back on and gets up. "Why?"

"This one hasn't," he tells her quietly.

"What?" she asks, her eyes widening.

"Look for yourself, Princess," he tells her, stepping closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his hand on her hip, the other resting in the middle of her stomach. He's shaking a little now. "This guy's not decomposing."

She looks into the coffin and sees a man in a tattered and once-luxurious bottle green suit and white shirt with a frilled collar, a cloth around his jaw to hold it shut and black shoes. He hasn't changed at all. Not even once. "He looks like he was just buried," she breathes, protectively holding Haymitch now, her blue eyes filled with fear.

Out of nowhere, the door to the tomb slams shut with a bang. Haymitch clutches Effie tightly and growls "Whatever just did that, you're not touching my girl."

She looks up at him in the dark and whispers "Mitch, now is not the time to get possessive!"

"I've always had time to be possessive over you, Princess, that's my job," he mutters.

There's a creaking noise from the second coffin and a flame flickers up. Candle light begins to illuminate the room. "Mitch, what's doing this?" Effie asks with a small whimper.

"I don't know, sweetheart," he whispers, clutching her tighter and shifting his hand off her stomach, reaching into the darkness for a way out.

After a few seconds, she whispers "Mitch, I love you deeply, but this is also no time to be making a move on me, now get your hand off my behind."

He freezes and places his hand back on her stomach. "My hand isn't back there, sweetheart," he tells her softly.

"Then whose is?" she whispers, clutching him tightly.

They turn around slowly, coming face to face with the man who had previously been in the coffin, who is now staring at the couple with a cruel smile on his face. Haymitch glares at him in the candlelight. "What do you think you're doing to my girl?" he asks.

He doesn't respond, watching them closely. "Haymitch, do not pick fights with the walking dead," Effie whispers, then smiles nervously at the undead man. "I'm sorry, are we interrupting your rest? Should we leave?"

He shakes his head slowly, then reaches for her stiffly. Haymitch pulls her closer. "Hands off my girl," he snarls. "She's a few centuries too young for you and already engaged."

The man nods stiffly to someone the two can't see. Effie whispers "Please, sir, whoever you are, we don't mean to be rude. We didn't know."

The man stares at her cruelly. Haymitch mutters to Effie "Stop tugging at my shirt, you. It's not funny."

"I'm not tugging your shirt, sweetie," she whispers back. He turns and sees the face of a woman with the expression of the man on her face.

The woman rasps to Haymitch, her voice dry like dead leaves underfoot, "Let your lady go, son. He won't hurt her."

"I don't let my girl go with just anyone," he snarls. "And stop touching me."

The man is reaching for Effie now. Haymitch turns to him and presses Effie to him. She softly whispers "Mitch? Mitch, darling, I'm sorry I made you come in here, I'm sorry that this happened to you and I should have listened, you were right. I love you so much, please don't forget that."

"Effie, just please shut up, we're not dead yet," he mutters.

"Don't disrespect a lady's apology," the man growls, his voice as raspy as the woman's. "Give her to me."

Haymitch snarls "Not on your cold, dead body. She's not going with you."

Effie whispers "You have your own wife. Why would you want me?"

The man grins cruelly at her. "Your blood is warm and sweet-smelling. Come," he rasps.

Haymitch growls "You wanna suck my girl's blood?"

The woman touches his shoulder, smirking evilly. "I prefer the taste of alcohol in blood," she hisses. "Come with me, boy."

"Not a chance," he snarls. "Leave my girl and me alone. Effie, sweetheart, do you have reception on your cell?"

She pulls her phone from her bag, holding Haymitch close. "No. No reception in here. We're in a tomb, Mitch! How are we going to have cell reception in a tomb?!" she squeaks.

"I was hoping for a miracle," he snaps, then looks down at her and sighs. "You know what? I don't think we'll get another chance to be all mushy with each other, Princess, so don't get used to hearing this. I love you, Effs. You're my whole world. You always have been. I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you and to be honest, there's nobody I'd rather face death with. I'm sorry for every cruel thing I've ever said to you. You're my special girl and you're wonderful in every way. Thanks for sticking with me, sweetheart."

He leans down and kisses her passionately, holding her close to him, grateful that he has her with him. The woman hisses behind them to the man, "Why aren't you ever that romantic?"

As soon as the kiss breaks, Effie looks to Haymitch, her eyes filled with tears and love. "You'd better not have only said that because you think we're dying in here," she teases. "Seriously, though. I love you, Mitch. You're everything to me. Whatever you want, it's yours. You make me the happiest woman alive and I thank you every single day for that. You've done everything you can to protect and love me. I'm the luckiest woman in the world to have you and you're the only one I would ever want to face death with. I'm sorry for forcing you into this and for every nasty thing I've ever said and done to you. You're my precious man and perfect in every way. Thank you for being here, darling."

She kisses him again, clutching him tightly. The man groans "Are you two going to keep this up all day? We're starving here."

The woman hisses "Oh, hush, we have tonight to hunt. Let them be sweet, it's the only romance I'm going to see in the next three hundred years. I ask again, why are you never this romantic?"

The man hisses back "Why are you not as attractive as she is?"

"You try being five hundred and nine and trying not to rot! It's alright for you, you're a man, you climb out of the coffin in a decent state!" she snaps. "I have to struggle with it! I can't be as attractive as the girl, she's practically an infant!"

Haymitch smirks at Effie. "Some infant," he mutters.

"Not the time, darling," she whispers back.

The man groans and snaps "We'll discuss this later. You two. Are you done being mushy? And more importantly, are you going to separate?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "I'm not letting go of my girl."

Effie clutches him. "I'm not letting go of my man."

The undead couple look at each other, nod and lunge. Haymitch and Effie press together and cover each other's throats, preventing the vampires getting to them. Someone calls through the door. "Mr Abernathy? Miss Trinket? You down there?"

"Yes!" they call together. "Help!"

Minutes later, the door opens and daylight streams in. The vampires back off the couple and retreat to the shadows. Haymitch scoops Effie up and rushes her out of the tomb. Their rescuer shines the light at the vampires and throws gasoline into the stone tomb, then strikes a match and throws that in too. "That explains why nobody ever wants to go in there," their saviour says.

Haymitch, clinging to a shaking Effie, asks "You knew?"

"Well, suspected. I tried to tell Miss Trinket, but she was having none of it. She didn't believe me," she shrugs. "Guess you will next time."

She nods. "But how did you know? The vault's been sealed for five hundred years."

"And one of us never made it inside. Guess who?" the family member says and bares her fangs. Effie acts on instinct and throws the third vampire into the burning tomb, slamming the door shut and grabbing Haymitch. "Let me out!"

Effie calls "Not likely!" then turns to Haymitch. "Run, darling. We can probably discuss wedding details with the kids as soon as we're home."

He nods and runs, holding her little hand in his. "Promise me that any kids we have aren't being subjected to grave exploration," he pants as they rush down the street and into their car.

"Honey, we're not having babies for a while yet. And I'm never going into another cemetery again," Effie gasps as he puts his foot down and drives them out of the range of the cemetery, which is now going up in flames.

"That's good. No more vampires," he sighs, his heart rate slowing.

She nods. "No more," she agrees, lying back. "After all, who would want to be caught in a tomb with the undead?"

"How about caught in a car?" a voice asks from behind them.

They turn to find a young-looking man with fangs in the backseat just as the sun comes out, grinning at them. He lunges to bite Effie as the roof goes back, courtesy of Haymitch. The sun fries the vampire. "How would you like stew for dinner tonight, Mitch?" Effie asks softly.

"Are you making it?" Haymitch asks.

"Yes," she replies, as if it's obvious.

"I'm buying takeout," he says and puts his foot down.

* * *

 _A/N 2: That's it for today! Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	10. Capitol Girl

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _This is the second of my two updates, the one that was supposed to come last week but didn't. I am pleased to say that this issue will not be happening again if I can help it. This one shot is based on the song "Uptown Girl," which utterly screams Hayffie. (This was the Westlife version, but naturally, I must say that I don't own it and all credits go to the original owners.) If you want my Twitter, it's at the bottom of my profile. Enjoy. :)_

 _ **Capitol Girl**_

Chaff and Haymitch lean against the bar, watching the Capitolites party around them. "So what do we do? It's not like we can spend the whole night drinking unless we want our Escorts getting on at us," Chaff points out.

"They live in a world where the worst thing to happen to them is crustless bread running out of stock or not getting the right colour hair dye. Not one of them knows what it's like to be starving in the fields or the streets," Haymitch grumbles. "Let them whine. Who cares if they disgrace their precious Capitol?"

"True," Chaff agrees. "So what are you thinking? See anything you like?"

Haymitch looks around, then down the bar. He sees his Escort flirting with some Capitol man, then nods. "Yeah. Her," he says, nodding at her.

"Trinket?" Chaff asks, raising an eyebrow. "How much have you had?"

Haymitch grins. "Enough. She's pretty," he tells him.

"She's a Capitolite," Chaff reminds him. "They're not pretty, they're clowns."

"She's lived this life for as long as anyone with hot blood can manage. It's about time she got to try the District life," Haymitch grins.

"You're wasted. She's not gonna go for a District man," Chaff says, shaking his head.

"She is. She's probably into illegal stuff," Haymitch disagrees. "Hold my drink, I'm going in."

"She's not gonna go for you," Chaff warns.

"Hey, listen to me, I know Trinket. When she knows what she wants, she gets it. So even if she didn't know she wanted a District guy's affection when she woke up, she will now," he tells him, smirking. "She knows me. She knows I'm not as nasty as I seem. Plus, the Capitol men bore her, showering her with gifts and compliments all the time. She complains endlessly about them. She needs variety. You watch."

"Your head on a stick," Chaff sighs.

Haymitch grins and goes to the woman. "Eff? Can I talk with you for a minute?"

"Of course, dear. Excuse me, Esdras," she smiles to the man, who gestures for her to go, smiling at her. "What is it, Haymitch?"

He smiles at her, then asks "Eff, I really like you... Would you consider being my girl?"

She looks at him, warmth and slight amusement in her eyes. "How much have you had to drink, Haymitch?" she asks gently.

"Not enough. Not drunk yet," he tells her, looking disappointed. "You could have just said if you don't want to."

She shakes her head with a light laugh. "You total sweetie, Haymitch. Of course I would like to. You're such a sweetheart underneath that tough exterior. Tipsy you is so cute," she giggles, then hugs him.

"Euphemia!" someone calls.

"Coming!" she calls back. "I have to run, darling. I'll come get you in a while, okay?"

He nods and freezes when she kisses his cheek. "Okay. Have fun," he tells her, watching her go.

"Who was that?" he hears the man ask of her.

"Mm? Oh, that was Haymitch," she tells him, smiling brightly.

"What did he want with you?" the man asks, reaching for her.

She brushes his hand off. "He wanted to talk to me, as I'm his girl," she tells him, a hint of finality in her voice.

Haymitch rushes to Chaff. "Cover me. I'm going somewhere and I'll be back in about ten minutes," he mutters, giving him money. "The next two drinks are on me."

* * *

He returns ten minutes later with a square box in a bag. "What's that?" Chaff asks.

"Gift for Effie," Haymitch mutters and buys another drink.

"I repeat, what is it?" he asks, intrigued.

"Pearl necklace," Haymitch mutters. "Thought she'd like it, you know."

"She will. She likes jewels," Chaff agrees.

"Haymitch!" Effie calls. "Come on, dear. Quickly."

"Why? What's going on?" Haymitch asks, worriedly.

"District Two's Escort is what's going on! We need to escape now," she whispers to him. "Thank you for looking after him, Chaff. Come on, Haymitch."

Haymitch nods and goes with her, going back up to Twelve's floor with her, her hand in his, a small smile on his lips at the sight of her. "Effs?"

"Yes?" she asks, looking at him with a warm glint in her eye.

He gives her the box and smiles at her. "I may not be all you deserve, Effs, but this is just a little way of showing you all you mean to me," he tells her, tentatively holding her hand.

She squeezes his hand as she opens the box. Her eyes go wide and fill with tears. "Oh, Haymitch, this is so sweet of you!" she breathes, looking immensely happy.

"Nothing but the best for my girl," he grins.

She leans close and kisses him. "Thank you, Haymitch."

He grins and kisses her back. He smiles to himself. She's Capitol to the core, just like Chaff said, but she's his Capitol girl and he couldn't be prouder of her. He clasps the necklace at the back for her, pressing a kiss to the soft skin at the back of her neck. "No problem, Princess."

And when he sees the glowing smile on her face, he knows just how true that is and hopes that one day, he'll be able to tell her how much he loves her.

* * *

 _A/N 2: That's it for today! Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	11. The In-Laws

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _The In-Laws_**

"Haymitch! We've been invited for a meal with my parents!" Effie calls as she puts the phone down.

"I knew you had an ulterior motive. A relaxing holiday in the Capitol turns into Dinner with the monster-in-law," Haymitch groans. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. She wants to meet her son in law. Now, I want you in a suit, your hair brushed for once and using decent manners," she tells him, her eyes turning from worried to paranoid.

"Your mom is a monster," he grumbles. "I don't want to impress her, too. Getting you to take the smallest amount of notice was a pain. Besides, I'm not marrying her, I'm marrying you. I don't need her approval."

"Well, just meet her properly," she insists. "She'll love you now that you're sober enough to hold a conversation."

"Sober's going out of the window if I have to talk to your mother," he growls. "I don't like your mom, Princess. She looks down on guys like me."

"She looks down on men who don't act to their social standard," she corrects. "And you do. I believe you're an excellent rebel. That's what everyone sees you as and you're the biggest one I know."

"I don't know if I should be honoured or insulted, Princess," he mutters.

"Oh, darling, you know I'd never try to hurt you," she sighs and goes over to give him a hug, snuggling him. "If we don't go to her, she'll come here. And if we go to her, we can choose when to leave. I promise you that we'll only stay forty five minutes."

He growls, but holds her. "I hate you. I hate you so much. Forty five minutes of torture with her..." he whines.

"I know, sweetest. It's just a chance for her to see that you're a fantastic choice really. I just want to know that you'll be treated well," she whispers, nestling up.

"With her? I doubt it," he sighs, but cuddles her anyway. "I can't resist your cuddles. I suppose you'll use them to get me to go?"

"Yes," she agrees.

* * *

"Euphemia!" her mother shrieks.

"Mother! Father!" Effie exclaims, leading Haymitch over and hugging her mother, then her father. "Is everything okay?"

Her mother sighs dramatically. "You have no idea, my darling girl. Between your engagement, to a man I hope is a true gentleman and not that slob you favoured before the war, and the birth of your newest nephew, I wouldn't use such an understatement as okay. Try stunning, my girl! Now, your fiance. Tell me you've chosen high social status, money, brains and good breeding!" she exclaims.

Haymitch shrugs. "Well, I've got good status among the rebel cause, I'm richer than I know how to be, she's all the brain in this relationship and neither of us are much for kids," he tells her, watching her with evident dislike.

"Haymitch..." Effie warns, but pulls him close.

"Euphemia! You brought the drunkard!" her mother exclaims.

"He's six months sober," Effie protests. "Hardly an alcoholic any more."

"That's a funny joke, my girl. Come on, who is he?" her mother asks hopefully.

Effie sighs. "Mother, Haymitch and I are engaged," she tells her patiently. "We've been engaged since the end of the war. We're very happy together."

"No! Honestly, Euphemia, I raised you for better!" her mother exclaims. "I raised you for a high Capitol pedigree, not a District mutt!"

"You wanted me to marry a man forty years older and have his children, then raise them alone if he died so that you'd get money from me," Effie snaps. "I don't want that. You know my view of marriage."

"A childish notion of love and romance," her mother scoffs with a dismissive wave. "Tell your daughter, Valerian."

Her father just shakes his head. "They're happy, Naenia, I can't say no. You're being harsh with her. This man's going to look after her and love her properly. She deserves to be treated with the love she gives. Our girl was never meant to be a trophy wife," he tells her, watching how Effie nudges closer to Haymitch.

"What of grandchildren? We'll have halflings!" her mother exclaims.

"So? If they're healthy, our daughter survives it in perfect health and the children are raised with love and understanding, I don't care. And neither should you. Let the two be happy, will you? They've earned it," he assures her. "He's sobered up on her behalf. That speaks volumes in itself. Don't worry, kids, you've got my blessing. Not that you needed it."

"I still say it's wrong, Valerian," Naenia sniffs. "If you two do get married, don't expect to see me at the wedding. I'll always know my child was better off with a loving Capitol man instead of some dirty animal."

"Don't worry, Mother," Effie says coldly. "If you're going to stand on prejudice toward my incredible fiance based on his birthplace and refuse to see the lovely man he is, then I'm sad to say that we wouldn't want you at the wedding. Haymitch means the world to me and I hope that's reciprocated. We will send you cake. Haymitch, darling, I do believe we have an urgent meeting to get to with Peeta's head doctor."

Haymitch, grateful to have an excuse to get away from her mother, nods and stands. "Yeah, we do. Can't be late. Come on, Princess. Nice seeing you again, Mr and Mrs Trinket," he rushes out, then almost carries Effie from the restaurant. Once they're out of sight, he hugs her and asks "Do we actually have to see Peeta's head doctor?"

"No, don't be silly. I just wanted out. Having them talking about their grandchildren made me want to be sick," she tells him. "We've got enough with the kids in Twelve. Any child under twelve years old is too young for us."

"Agreed, sweetheart," he grins, stroking her soft blonde hair. "We'd better get home. I'm so sick of being outside."

"So am I," she sighs. "Next time, you're picking the activity."

"Thanks, sweetheart. And we're not meeting up with the in-laws again," he mutters.

"Agreed, darling," she murmurs back. She's had enough of her mother to last.

* * *

 _A/N 2: That's it for today! Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	12. Effie Trinket, Psychic?

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _Effie Trinket, Psychic?_**

"This is our year!" Effie exclaims, pushing the two fourteen year old children into the suite.

"We almost never win," complains the girl. "It took twenty six years for Haymitch to win!"

"That means that, in the terms of statistic, we're due a win! Now find your positivity and a winning attitude. Nothing is accomplished by simply accepting defeat before you've tried!" the bubbly Capitol woman exclaims.

"Where's the alcohol?" Haymitch groans. "The sunshine coming off you is too bright."

Effie pouts, then stiffens. "Out. All three of you. Out, now!" she exclaims and pushes them out of the suite.

"What?!" Haymitch exclaims as she herds them out. "What are you doing, you mad woman?!"

Once in the hall, she takes them out of the building. "We will stay in my apartment and I will get the children to training via car," she declares. "We cannot stay in that building."

"Don't be stupid, of course we can," Haymitch growls and takes them back inside. Their Tributes stay quiet, wondering what's going on. "Ignore the woman, she's insane."

"You're going to regret this, Haymitch," Effie warns, but follows him upstairs anyway.

.

She doesn't turn up for their evening meal. Haymitch goes to her room and walks in without knocking to find her hanging crystal windchimes with a pentagram in the middle of them. He stares at her and asks "What are you doing? Summoning the devil?"

"No, don't be silly! I'm protecting us! Whatever's here cannot touch any of us if we're all protected," she tells him, then pushes a black bracelet with multicoloured beads on it onto his wrist. "Keep that there. That's protection for you."

"From what? Women?" he asks. "I hate to break it to you, Effie, but I'm straight."

"I don't care what you are, I care about safety. Keep that thing on. Bracelets are fashionable and you're safe with it," she growls, then takes two reinforced crystal bracelets to the Tributes and ties them on. "Here we go."

"Thanks, Miss Trinket, but why?" asks their female Tribute, admiring it.

"To protect you both," she tells her with a warm smile.

Their male Tribute raises an eyebrow. "Bracelets? We're going to fight the death, it'll take more than a bracelet to protect us," he reminds her.

"It's supposed to protect you from... Other things. I want to make sure you're safe while you're in my care. Just keep those on," she commands and stroke their hair before she walks off.

"What is her deal?" Haymitch wonders aloud.

"No idea, but she has amazing taste in jewels!" the girl exclaims.

Haymitch rolls his eyes and follows Effie into the hall. Whatever her issue with this place is, he wants to know about it.

.

She's hung matching windchimes in hers and the two Tributes' rooms by the time he catches her in his room. "Trinket, stop this," he growls.

"No," she replies, hanging the windchime and sprinkling water around. "Whatever this bad thing is, I don't want it hurting any of you."

"What bad thing?" he asks, watching her closely.

She freezes. "Shh. Go. Join the children. I'll be with you in a minute," she whispers, pushing him out.

"Effie!" he exclaims.

"Just. Go," she mutters. He does as she says, wondering why she's suddenly so secretive.

She arrives minutes later and puts pentagram necklaces on them all, each with purple crystals on them. Haymitch groans "This is getting too much, Effie. What's going on?"

She sits down with them and whispers "Whatever you do, none of you are to remove the crystals. Your accessories are made of crystals. There is an entity in here that doesn't want us, so the crystals are to protect. I've taken as many preventative measures toward it as possible and there are salt rings around our beds. So the entity won't be able to get in our beds. That should make it safer while we sleep. Now, I don't want any of you trying to communicate with it. It's not safe to call out to the dead, but especially unsafe to talk to this. You'd essentially be inviting it to possess you. You have to go about your business as usual, but keep all of your protective gear on at all times."

Haymitch bursts out laughing, while the Tributes nod, taking her seriously. Haymitch chokes out "A demonic entity? Effie, you've been watching too many horror movies. There aren't any demons!"

She sighs. "Just don't anger it and keep the jewellery on. Humour me," she pleads.

He groans and watches as she makes puppy eyes, causing the teenagers to giggle. "Fine. And using your cute eyes is cheating," he growls.

"You think she's cute?" the girl squeaks in delight.

"No, I think it's cute when she does that. She looks like a puppy," Haymitch sighs. "Nobody can resist puppies."

Effie grins smugly. "Do I start making little yaps now or later?" she lifts an eyebrow.

"Please don't, your voice is enough," Haymitch replies without missing a beat.

"I'm getting you a puppy," she warns. "And you won't be able to resist its cute little face."

"I hate you," he growls.

"Hate you back," she replies happily.

.

 _"Out... Get out... Out..."_

Haymitch growls and sits up. "What's up, Trinks?" he asks, his eyes blurry.

 _"Out..."_

He blinks and sees the black figure in the corner. He flicks on the light and finds that his salt circle is gone. He gets up and immediately goes to Effie's room, deciding to get her verdict on this. When he sees her, he gets into her bed with her and wraps her in his hold. "Effie?" he breathes.

"Mm?" she hums, opening her eyes. "I was just falling asleep."

He looks at her. "Eff, what do you do if the salt ring disappears?" he asks.

"It shouldn't... Haymitch, did your salt ring vanish?" she asks, him, fully alert now.

"Yeah," he tells her.

She gets up and wraps herself in a robe. "We're getting the kids and taking them out before it has a chance to get us," she growls and puts more protective jewellery on him. The two of them bundle the Tributes out and take them to Effie's apartment. She salts a ring around the building and goes back inside. "Do you believe me now, Haymitch?"

"Yeah," he nods, looking unnerved. "Eff, why was it in my room?"

She shakes her head. "It targeted the one who didn't believe in it," she says sadly. "You're threatened."

* * *

 _A/N 2: That's it for today! Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	13. How To Be Drunk Without Drinking

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _A/N: I'm rating this one-shot M for the means of alcoholic intake . If you dislike this sort of thing, I suggest you skip this. Credit to my father for this prompt and a massive thanks. I really hope I did this justice. And on with the story!_**

 _ **How To Be Drunk Without Drinking.**_

"You're supposed to be _sober_ , so no more alcohol! If I smell that stuff on you one more time, I will make sure that the alcohol supply is non-existent here in Twelve," Effie had threatened before she went out.

Haymitch, being as stubborn as he is, is having none of it. "Control freak Trinket," he mutters, watching videos on the phone she'd bought for him. He gapes as he watches a man with a vodka-soaked tampon, holding it up. "Where is this going? You can't use one of those."

The man in the video, his bright purple hair reflecting the light, says **"And now we insert this to push the alcohol right into the bloodstream."**

Haymitch flinches as the man pushes the vodka-soaked tampon into his own behind. "Ouch," he mutters, not enjoying the look of that.

 **"Painful, but quick, clean, more effective at getting you drunk than ingestion and it keeps your breath smelling sweet and clean,"** the man declares.

 _Now there's a thought_ , Haymitch thinks, a slow smile spreading across his face.

* * *

He hides the tampons he stole from his housemate in his room until she's out again in case this goes wrong. _This better work,_ he thinks. _Last thing I need is her finding me trying to rip one of these things free of this hole_. He soaks one tampon in tequila, the brand he knows Effie hates most, then stares at it. _Okay, the guy did this. String hangs free._ Seconds later, he's flinching from the thing being inserted in a hole it isn't made for, but satisfied. An hour later, he's drunker than ever before and hides all of the used alcohol-soaked tampons, smirking to himself as the front door opens. "Honey, I'm home," Effie calls from downstairs.

 _Honey? That's new, right?_ he questions to himself and rushes downstairs. "Effie?" he slurs.

"Haymitch?" she asks, then looks him over. "Haymitch, have you been drinking?"

"No," he slurs, smirking drunkenly at her.

"Then why are you slurring so much and looking at me with glazed eyes?" she asks, annoyed and confused.

"Because I can," he declares, looking very proud of himself.

"Are you drunk?" she questions, very well aware that he is.

In his eyes, she's now become two of herself. He points at the two he sees and grins. "Two Effies right, I'm drunk!" he slurs happily.

"You just told me you haven't been drinking," she reminds him, stepping closer to catch the scent of alcohol.

"I haven't!" he tells her proudly.

She inhales the scent of his breath, perplexed when she only smells the cake they'd eaten after lunch. She grabs his shoulders and sniffs him properly. "You don't smell of alcohol," she states, her forehead crinkled in confusion. "How can you be drunk if you haven't been drinking?"

He grins and grabs her, pulling her close, kissing her nose. "Because I'm clever," he tells her proudly. "I'm clever and you're pretty."

"Calling me pretty isn't going to tell me how you're drunk," she says, trying and failing to push him off. "Will you tell me how you did it?"

"No," he tells her smugly. "Because you'll get mad. Mad and pretty don't mean good."

She sighs. "Then you're going to have to lie down and sleep this off," she says, starting to guide him out of the room.

"Only if you stay," he slurs, hugging her. "I get bad nightmares if you're not there."

She suddenly looks like hearing that melts her heart. "Oh, fine, you've convinced me," she sighs with fake reluctance that doesn't even try to sound convincing. "I'll stay."

Haymitch grins and presses a sloppy, wet kiss on her lips. "Mine," he slurs.

"My, you're a very happy drunk now," she sighs. "I almost miss you firing insults at me."

"You do? Okay... Uh... Your gaze could kill someone cuz you're so pretty," he tries, hugging her and making it nearly impossible for her to move him.

"Nice try," she smiles, gasping a bit. "Move your feet and help, this is a team effort."

He flaps his foot in the air, then picks her up and tucks her head against his neck and her feet under his arm, shielding her slim form with both arms in case he falls, still with enough sense to protect her. "I carry you," he declares and starts to stumble upstairs. She whimpers, as though praying he doesn't kill them both. He gets them up to his room and puts her in his bed as tenderly as he can, then lovingly strokes her hair, getting in with her and wrapping his arms around her. "Effie right I drunk."

"I know I'm right. I'm just lost with how," she sighs, kissing his cheek.

He kisses her lips again. "Wanna map to how?" he asks, cuddling her tightly.

She reaches under the pillow to hold him close, her hand making contact with something wet. "No... Haymitch, what is this?" she asks and pulls the thing out. She registers what it is and screams, throwing it at a wall. "Why do you have a wet tampon under your pillow?!"

Haymitch swallows. "I wanted one there?" he asks nervously.

She lifts the pillow and the scent of alcohol hits her and sends her reeling. "You used these to put alcohol in... Oh, _Haymitch_ , that's disgusting!" she screams, scrambling out of the bed in horror.

"At least I wasn't drinking!" he exclaims defensively, his slur worse when he shouts.

She squeaks in utter disgust and he's not even surprised that she starts changing his bedding around him. "You're an animal, Haymitch," she mutters angrily under her breath.

"Sure animals wouldn't think of that," he replies, smirking at the ceiling as she yanks the sheets out from under him.

"You're a sneaky man," she growls. "Did you know that?"

"Yes. I also know you're a tiny squish," he tells her, then pulls her back onto the bed. "You promised you'd nap with me."

She groans softly and growls "I'm lying on you."

He grins. "That works for me, Princess," he whispers and cuddles her. "Don't kill me."

"No promises," she teases, nestling close. "I'm furious about this."

"You'd miss me if I died," he slurs, petting her hair.

"I wish I could deny it," she giggles, snuggling him. "Only you could work out how to be drunk without drinking."

* * *

 _A/N 2: That's it for today! Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	14. The Only Exception

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :( I also do not own "The Only Exception" because I have nothing to do with Paramore. Just a fan of them, too. All rights to rightful owners._**

 ** _A/N: This is a very strong T to a mild M for potential triggers (I know they can be anything at all, even the most inconspicuous things), so proceed only if you're sure you're okay with alcoholism, insecurities, slight controlling parenting, darkness in general. Just to be sure. Fluffy ending, though. Sorry this was so late, I'm in a serious creative ruin._**

 ** _The Only Exception- Hayffie_**

 ** _Effie's POV_**

I was only a small child when my parents fought that night. My father pushed me aside as he ran outside and cursed into the gale blowing outside our home. I could almost see his heart breaking and I watched him first destroy himself, then try to piece himself back together, hearing my mother swear that she'd never let herself forget this moment and that she knew my father was never hers and she was never his. I promised myself then that I would never declare love if there was no love in it. That was their mistake. I spent my evening with my sister, who was fourteen years older than me and brushed my hair, oblivious to everything but her current boyfriend. I heard everything from my parents that night and knew that true love just doesn't exist. But now I look at this man, this middle aged drunkard, this sign of hopelessness, loss and pain, trying to bring two young people to reality about these Games and feel something for him that I've never felt before. Forbidden feelings. Feelings I've never had and swore to myself as a girl I'd never have. But him, Haymitch Abernathy, he could well be the only exception to my rule of never falling in love when love cannot possibly exist. "You two are strong. You have advantages," he slurs, watching them with unfocused eyes.

As a teenager, I was a model. By then, of course, my sister was married with two children and a third on the way. My mother would always tell me I wasn't clever enough, pretty enough, talented enough. She'd only feed me soup as I was supposed to be slim. I've always been chubby, but no matter what I did, I wasn't losing weight. I learned to only eat minimal portions and never complain of hunger. I lost weight at sixteen. I never regained it. I'm on alert now, as a twenty four year old woman, to watch my weight at all times. I'm trying to lose more weight. I've done everything in my power to become beautiful and I've failed the whole way through. Peeta asks "How do we get sponsors?"

Haymitch growls "Get people to like you. You'll have her for that," then nods to me. "She's the expert on being liked."

I'm not. I'm hated by everyone. Who would like me? I'm not smart, pretty, talented, slender, tall or particularly attractive. Nobody likes me at all. But naturally, my instinct to make others presentable and seem lovely from my own failures can help. Why wouldn't it? Whatever I've ever done wrong, I can correct for them. They need guidance, I'm worthless enough to give it. Right?

* * *

Haymitch watches me closely tonight. I'm not doing anything special. I'm sitting here, layered in makeup, designer clothes, high heels, expensive wig and trying to be the epitome of beauty and grace. "What do you look like under all that?" he asks, gesturing to my attire and face.

"The ugliest sight you'll never see," I tell him, no hint of a joke at all.

"You can't be much uglier than this," he scoffs.

That stings. A lot. "Thank you. I'll work on that," I note and mark it into my mind. I'm ugly even in my most beautiful clothes and best makeup work. Even the man I'm certain of considers me ugly. It's strange to know that after all this time, only he can hurt me now. Nobody else's comments hurt me as much as his do. Even my mother can't hurt me as much as he can. "Have a good night, Haymitch."

"Trinket, wait," he sighs, but I don't listen, rushing to my room to hide. I don't run as running isn't suited to a lady. I cleanse my face of makeup, seeing the disgusting woman underneath appear again. I cleanse my skin, then use exfoliating scrub, a toner and a moisturising cream, then wipe my hands and carefully unpin my wig and take it off, placing it on a stand, undoing my hair from its braid, watching the boring blonde hair drop to my shoulders. I stand and undress, hanging my beautiful dress up, carefully unlacing my corset and lacing it neatly around a mannequin before I look into the mirror. I see that my body is still too round, my supposed assets too small, my face ugly, my hair plain. I sigh sadly at the sight, but I can't stand the thought of anyone coming near my body with altering intent. "You know you're beautiful under that stuff."

I jump a mile and cover myself indignantly, humiliation flooding my mind. "Haymitch, really, can't you knock?! This is hardly a good time, I'm barely decent!" I yelp, rushing to the corner, hiding myself under a robe, the hood high on my head. "Please turn so I can cover up."

"No," he refuses, closing my door and coming to me. "What happened to ugliest sight I'd never see, huh? Why didn't you tell me you're beautiful?"

"I'd be lying. You said it yourself, I'm ugly at my best. I got so much worse without the help," I say, ashamed of myself. "I'm so sorry, I'll make sure to hide it all in future."

"Don't," he whispers, his hand under my chin. "You're not ugly. You're beautiful. How could you even consider it? What part of this is ugly?"

I bite my lip, then softly say "Everything. I am ugly. I'm too chubby, I barely have any nice curves, I have horrible hair, my face is round and spotty, I'm covered in stretch marks and acne. I'll never be enough. So please keep this embarrassing encounter to yourself and maybe when I have gathered my wits and finally had those alterations made, we can discuss this on a much happier note."

He looks at me with a calm expression, his stunning grey eyes burning with rage. "What alterations?" he asks me quietly.

"Implants. Fat removal. Facial reconstruction. Hair implants," I list, blushing.

"Implants? What for?" he questions.

"What do you think?" I ask quietly, blushing more.

He looks and lifts an eyebrow. "No, perfect already. Why fat removal?"

I must be warm enough to fry eggs on my face now. "My stomach's all flabby, my rear is sagging and my thighs are all wobbly," I whisper.

"Not in the slightest. I can count your ribs and your stomach is flatter than any other Capitolite, you work out a lot. Your thighs are gorgeous. Anyone with eyes can see that. As for your behind... It's incredible," he tells me quietly, his eyes roaming over me. "Clear this up for me; Why the facial reconstruction?"

I bite my lip. "Because my face is plain and boring to look at," I tell him. "My eyes are too wide, my nose is too small, my lips are too big, my jawline is too narrow and my cheeks are too round."

"Your face is perfect, Effie. You have sweet eyes, they're just the right size. Your nose isn't too small, it's just the perfect size for your face. Your lips are incredible. Do you have any idea of the amount of times I've wanted to kiss them? You have a stunning jawline, it makes your face the most perfect oval shape. Your cheeks are so pretty, not too round. They make your face look soft and touchable. Now tell me about the hair implants," he whispers, getting closer to me.

"I want dark hair. Naturally dark, like my whole family has. So I'm having this straw coloured tangle lasered off and dark hair implanted," I tell him quietly, trusting him with more than everything.

"Why? Your natural hair is beautiful. It's like a field of wheat in sunlight. Golden, shiny, bouncy and soft. It suits you. You look gorgeous like this. You're like a movie star, Effie, don't do what everyone else does. You're naturally beautiful. Who told you that you aren't?" he asks, stroking my cheek now.

"Everyone but you," I whisper, wanting to cuddle him but fearing that he'll reject me.

"They're all wrong, Princess. You're perfect. If they can't see it, they're blind," he whispers, then hugs me tightly. A minute later, our mouths crash together in a brutal kiss. My mind just goes into meltdown, the idea of a man ever kissing me when I look like myself just coming to life and it's better than I could have ever dreamed it to be.

.

I know, deep down in the very core of my soul, that love never lasts, even if it's real. He will move on soon. He doesn't truly love me. He can't possibly love Panem's worst human being, he's too good for that. I need to find a way to make it alone or to keep a poker face when this comes crashing down around me. Just how it's always been. Just me, watching everything happen at a very comfortable distance. I've always told myself that I'm happy with being on my own. That loneliness is the most comfortable feeling in the world. Nobody will accept me for me. Nobody has ever been worth the risk to me. But Haymitch, once again, is the only exception. I would risk everything for him in a heartbeat. Even with a strong grip on that reality, I can't let the vision of perfection in front of me when I wake up go. Haymitch is lying next to me with such a happy smile. He rests his hand on my stomach and grins at me, then whispers "Mornin', Princess."

I need evidence that this is not a dream. I know he has to leave me, but I need proof that I'm not dreaming his presence. "Good morning, darling," I whisper and kiss him tenderly, still afraid that he's going to reject me, like any sane man would.

He smiles and cuddles me. "My sweet girl. Did you sleep well?" he asks, his voice gentle and loving.

"Yes, thank you. And you? Any nightmares?" I ask, giving him a tight hug.

"Not one," he breathes, kissing my cheeks. "Just a really sweet one. You lay in my arms in the meadow, smiling and snuggling up to me, eating chocolate covered strawberries."

I grin and kiss his lips again. "That sounds like paradise," I murmur.

"It does," he agrees and kisses me.

.

That night, he dances with me in public, my mother and sister watching as this handsome, tender, loving man spins me around the dancefloor and holds me, giving me love and attention and sweetness. He feeds me cupcakes and cuddles me close all evening. It feels so lovely to be wanted, even though it won't last. "Oh, don't give her so many cakes, dear, she'll get awfully fat. She gains pounds just looking at them!" my mother exclaims, appearing beside Haymitch.

"She'd be beautiful even if she did gain a few pounds. She's allowed to eat, you know," he snaps. "Who are you to judge my girl, anyway?"

"Her mother," she snaps back. "And if my child ends up obese, you're not allowed to dump her for being unattractive."

"She's perfect in every sense of the word. If you think I'm superficial like you, you're wrong on so many levels. Keep your judgy opinions to yourself and stop hurting her feelings for your own satisfaction. My Effie's perfect. You're full of plastic. Let her be. Come on, Princess, anywhere's better than with this judgy witch," Haymitch growls. As soon as we're away from my mother, he kisses me gently and whispers "I love you. Regardless of anything else, I love you, Effie. You're everything in the world to me. Don't ever listen to the haters."

I nod and smile at him. "I love you too, Haymitch. You make everything worthwhile and you're the most perfect man in existence. Thank you for sticking with me."

He lights up as if I've just made his day, then clutches me. "No thanks needed, Princess. Just being alive and well is enough," he whispers.

I cling to him. "Ditto," I murmur, then look up at him. I am on my way now. One day, hopefully, I'll believe he truly loves me. I'll believe that in the world of people who hate me as a rule, he will be the only exception, the only one who could ever truly love me.

* * *

 _A/N 2: That's it for today! Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	15. Coffee Sachets

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _A/N: This is just something that struck while I was making coffee._**

 ** _Coffee Sachets_**

The loud slam of a cupboard door downstairs wakes Haymitch up. He starts, wondering if the slightly heavier pattering is Katniss or a Peacekeeper in his home and instinctively grabs his knife, heading for his kitchen. As he gets closer, he hears small sobs and tiny growls and thudding as the cupboard doors are violently pushed shut. He cautiously steps closer and watches the small blonde woman throws things over her shoulders, standing on the tips of her toes to search the top shelves of his cupboards. He lowers his knife and places it on the counter before lifting an eyebrow and asking "Lost something?"

She whips around, her face a picture of distress and pain. "Haymitch!" she wails.

Worry courses through him at her distress and he goes much closer to her. "What's happened? Are you hurt?" he asks, looking her over with the fear of seeing her injured tearing through him.

"It's worse!" she sobs, hugging him and wailing onto his shoulder. "Much, much worse!"

He grabs her and clutches her close to him. "What's happened, Princess?" he whispers urgently into her hair.

"We're..." she chokes, her tears soaking his shirt. "We're..."

"What? Effie, tell me what's wrong," he growls, panic setting in.

 _"We're out of coffee sachets!"_ she wails, sobbing like it's the end of the world.

"Wait, what?!" Haymitch demands, relief flooding him for a moment before anger overtakes his mind. "You had me panicking over a _lack of coffee sachets?!"_

"Yes! Haymitch, it's terrible!" she sobs, clinging to him.

"We have a jar full of the stuff!" he snarls, trying to push her off. "Why are you so worked up about this?! It's not like someone's just tried to murder you! There's still coffee."

She sobs "Haymitch, you know I'm useless at making that stuff into a decent drink! I only know how to make the sachet stuff because everything's put together!"

He rolls his eyes. "So you're crying because you don't have ease and can't make a real cup of coffee on your own?" he asks, still hating the way Capitolites are spoiled but he won't admit to himself how grateful he is that she still feels safe enough to cry about something this trivial.

"Haymitch, don't you see? I can't do this one simple thing right! I've searched for the last two hours and the shops don't open for another hour here! I can't go that long without coffee, you remember what it was like in Thirteen!" she wails.

He bites back a grin, knowing she won't appreciate it. He does remember. He remembers it vividly. She had wailed about it to Coin for hours every day for about a month. It had annoyed her to the point where she'd been about to strangle the Capitolite, and would have if he hadn't stepped in and taken Effie out of Coin's reach. Effie had turned on _him_ then and wailed about how he'd been warned he was going to be put through withdrawal and was given a space to be away from people while he did and that she hadn't been given any such luxury and how much she needed the caffeine. To prevent himself laughing more at the memory, he holds her chin so that she's looking at him. "You know what, then? I'll make you a coffee and I'll get you more of your sachets when the shop opens. Just promise me that you'll never scare me like that again," he says, watching her closely.

"Okay. Thank you," she whispers, feeling silly for her reaction to the lack of coffee sachets, then kisses his nose tenderly. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"It's okay. Go sit down," he orders, giving her a nudge toward the table as he fills the kettle and puts it on the stove, washing her mug for her. It strikes him that this little routine they have is so quiet and domestic and he wonders when they got like this. When she knew she was safe after being so afraid for her entire life. When he got so comfortable with taking care of her and doing the most mundane things like making her coffee and going to the shops for her. He turns to see her watching him with a thoughtful look in her eyes and grins at her as he rinses soap out of her mug. "What?"

She blinks and smiles a little. "Just wondering how we got here, that's all," she answers softly, her eyes still far away.

He grins, drying her mug and putting it down, then spoons coffee and sugar into it before he faces her. "Here?" he questions.

"Living together. Our lives are peaceful and easy now. We have nothing to fear and the worst thing that can happen in day to day life is running out of a gingerbread latte," she says, her tone as far away as her eyes. "We're doing everything here in Twelve the way the Capitol people used to take for granted."

He nods thoughtfully. "Like an old married couple," he jokes, then stops and thinks about it for a second. She clearly had the same thought as both of their faces reflect the same horror.

"Oh my God," she gasps. "We're an old married couple."

He stares at her for another moment before smirking. "Does that mean I get out of proposing?" he asks hopefully.

"Not a chance," she teases. "The whole cow, not just the steak."

He groans playfully, filling the mug with water and cream, stirring it together and adding a small dash of cinnamon. He gives her the mug and kisses her cheek. "Fine. It's worth making an idiot of myself. I'll get to be openly jealous next time that butcher hits on you," he tells her, straightening up.

She lifts an eyebrow as she sips her coffee, purring happily at the taste, then cheekily grins and asks "Pulling me back to you and kissing me right in front of him wasn't you being openly jealous?"

He nudges her shoulder gently. "That was me laying claim to my girl," he tells her with a hint of teasing in his tone, smirking a bit. "And you enjoyed every second."

She laughs and tugs him down for a kiss. "Yes, I did and I'm back for more," she giggles.

He smirks and strokes her hair, kissing her lightly. "You drink your coffee, short stuff. I'm going for a shower," he whispers into her ear, then backs away.

She watches him go, smiling a bit. There were worse things to do in a morning.

* * *

 _A/N 2: That's it for today! Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	16. Lingerie Shopping Gone Wrong

**_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _A/N: Credit to my dad for this idea, because without him, there wouldn't be any inspiration here._**

"Effie, I refuse to go lingerie shopping with you!" Haymitch insists, hating that he's had to repeat himself no less than forty times in the last ten minutes.

"Haymitch, you are coming with me and you are going to be sober!" Effie snaps. "I need new underwear and Portia will insist I look good even if I don't, so I need you to come because you're honest with me!"

Haymitch grumbles at this.

* * *

He'd never liked that little voice in his head that always told him to do stupid things. It always told him to make mistakes. Like that one with the tampons... He shudders violently at the memory. Seconds later, a light bulb pops up above his head. He grins and sneaks to Portia's room, knowing it's vacant. He grabs a box of tampons and a bowl, grinning to himself. Surely nothing can go wrong if Effie doesn't know. He smirks and fills the bowl with a mixture of dark red wine and vodka, smirking at the blood-coloured concoction. He puts the tampons in to soak, grinning like a madman.

* * *

"Up, up, up!" Effie trills loudly. "It's a big, big, big day!"

Haymitch grumbles and gets up. His marinated tampons are soaked through and look like they were soaked in blood. He grins to himself and winces as he shoves one up his behind, then dresses quickly. He smirks as he feels his body take in the stuff, putting the rest in a zip lock bag and putting them in his pocket. "Fine, Trinks, I'm here. Are we going?" he asks, lifting an eyebrow at her impractical and disgusting lime green and neon pink dress.

"Yes," she declares and checks him for any signs of alcohol. Satisfied that he's sober, she nods and pulls him to the door. "The cab's waiting."

* * *

He groans as she leads him into a pink store. "Effie, really?" he groans. "I'm not drunk, this is not a fun idea."

"It's a favour to a friend," she hisses. "If I have to pretend to be your girlfriend to get you out of unwanted situations, you have to come shopping with me _once._ "

"I'm never relying on you to get me out of sticky situations again, short stuff," he growls.

"Stop mocking my height," she mutters and pushes the door open, dragging him in.

He stares at the place in utter horror. There is multicoloured lace and stringy stuff everywhere. He whispers into her ear "I thought that we were _underwear_ shopping. This is a fabric shop."

"Nonsense. It's lingerie, Haymitch, you're confused," she replies, then heads off.

He follows her awkwardly. "So you wear this stuff?" he asks.

She nods. "Of course I do," she replies. "Some men find it attractive."

"Which men find strings and nets attractive?" he asks. "The last person I knew to enjoy that was Finnick and he's a fisherman."

"He uses them for work. These are suited to more... Fun activities," she says with a smile.

"What, having your underwear slice you in half if you shift half an inch?" he asks, totally nonplussed by the idea.

"No," she replies coolly, a sign that her temper is rising.

"So... You ever gonna show me what it looks like on you instead on a rail?" he asks.

"Only to ask if it actually suits me," she says distractedly. "I do have a boyfriend and you're the only reliably honest person I know."

He rolls his eyes and picks up a tiny lacy thing. "What's this?" he asks.

"That's a thong, Haymitch, what did you think?" she hisses, losing her temper quickly.

"I thought they hadn't made the rest of it yet," he snaps defensively, getting a dirty look from the clerk. He lowers his voice. "This thing looks like it'll ride up too far and cut you."

"Well, it won't," she snarls under her breath, then goes off on her own. She returns with her arms full of lacy and silky things Haymitch doesn't recognise. "Here,take my card and go pay."

"Me?!" he yelps as she dumps the heap on him.

"Yes, you! Go pay!" she hisses and gives him a push.

Grumbling, he goes to pay, not noticing a young man pulling out his phone and beginning to film him. The clerk rings everything up and smiles at him. "Two thousand, six hundred dollars, sir."

Haymitch's eyes go wide. "How much?!" he demands at the same time as he loudly passes gas, remembering the tampon too late.

"Haymitch!" Effie shrieks and rushes over. "You've followed through! Oh, you disgusting man, how could you be so uncivilised?! Could it not have waited until you got to a bathroom?!"

He reaches into his underwear and pulls out the tampon. "I haven't done any such thing, sweetheart, it's a tampon!" he exclaims, attracting everyone's attention.

"Oh my God!" she screams. "You're bleeding! You need a doctor, that's not right!"

"Don't be stupid, it's only wine and vodka!" he tells her, gleefully, then squeezes it into his mouth. "You see?"

She gasps and looks disgusted. "You had that up your... Ugh, Haymitch, you're disgusting!"

He grins and pushes it at her. "You want some?" he asks.

She screams, her hands over her mouth. "No! I do not! Get out of my sight!" she shouts, taking back her card and paying for her things herself. The clerk is now bright red with effort, trying not to laugh at them. "Go home, you horrible man!"

* * *

Not even an hour later, Effie's lying on the sofa with a cold towel on her forehead. Haymitch is sitting miserably on the chair opposite her, having been lectured endlessly. "Okay, Effs, I'm sorry for embarrassing you," he sighs, as if apologising to her is a great chore.

She sighs softly. "Well, I accept your apology. The public is going to make my migraine much worse," she says with a groan. "I'm not asking you to come underwear shopping again."

"Thanks, Trinks," he says, then looks at her. "You know, you never did show me what you look like in that stuff."

"I already know what I look good in," she tells him. "I only asked you because I wanted to spend one day with you while you were sober. I just thought you'd do it more willingly because you were needed than if I'd just asked for the sake of asking."

He opens his mouth to respond, but Portia bursts in with her laptop. "Have you two seen this video?! It's trending everywhere!" she exclaims.

Effie sits up and Haymitch joins her. Their jaws drop as they hear Effie screaming, Haymitch laughing and the whole store going silent. "What... Who uploaded this?" Effie asks weakly.

"Someone," Portia shrugs. "You guys never tell me when the good stuff happens."

"Well, Princess, you've got your fame," Haymitch says, grinning. "You're welcome."

"Haymitch, you'd better run," Effie mutters.

"Why?" he asks, turning to look at her.

"Because when I'm done with you, you'll wish you were in that arena," she hisses.

"I survived forty seven other kids, sweetheart, I'm not afraid of you," he tells her smugly.

"You're going to have survived that Quell and forty seven other kids to die at the hands of a one hundred pounds soaking wet Capitol woman," she growls and lunges.

He realises the danger and runs from her. She chases him, ready to kill him. Portia whips out her phone and films them. "Now this is how good stuff goes down!"

* * *

 ** _A/N 2: I'm sorry I disappeared, but I had such a horrible week from Thursday on. My rat got sick with a respiratory infection and I had to rush him off to be seen to. He was given the utmost care, but he died on Monday, so I had to miss out on Tuesday's update. And after a lot of chewing it over, I got a tiny baby rat who basically sapped my time and energy. But now I'm back and I'll try to get some good stuff up for you all. Thanks for being so patient with me. Cat. xxx_**


	17. Storage Closet

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _Thanks to my dad for this one. :)_

 ** _Storage Cupboard_**

"Has anyone seen Effie this morning?" Plutarch asks.

"No, not since yesterday," President Coin replies, looking up.

Finnick chuckles from the corner. "Be careful. If you're looking for her with any intention other than business, Haymitch will kill you. You'd be stepping on his toes, you see," he tells him, as seriously as he can with a giant smile on his face.

"Shut up, kid. It won't be war that kills you, it'll be me," Haymitch grumbles, still not taking his withdrawal well. "I haven't seen Trinket since the last meeting. She left here and vanished."

"Probably gone above ground to go back to the Capitol. That girl of yours is too stupid to know that they'd be happy to kill her," Johanna jabs, entirely too gleeful at the thought of that particular Capitol woman getting shot by her own people.

"She may not be the brightest, Jo, but she's still saved you from the drunk tank more times than you can count," Finnick snaps, always a little protective over Effie. "You wouldn't want her dead. Besides, who else would...?"

He trails off and Johanna sees this as an opportunity to get Effie into trouble with Coin. "Who would keep stealing more morphling for me?" she suggests, her eyes glinting wickedly.

Haymitch glares at her then. "She hasn't been stealing morphling for you, Johanna. You got that little kid sister of Gale's to do it," he growls.

"Can't you see I'm trying to drag your Capitolite through the mud?" Johanna demands.

"Can't you see I'm not letting you drag her through the mud?" Haymitch mocks, eyeing her in a way that promises pain if she doesn't stop bad mouthing Effie.

Finnick laughs softly at that. "And you say you're not in love with her," he teases, nudging him.

"I'm not. I don't do love," Haymitch snaps, not for the first time. "She's the only friend I've had who was there to keep me in line and out of harm's way. You three were always causing mayhem with me, if you'll take your mind off that fantasy of her being... What was the phrase you used? Ah. _My one true love,_ long enough to remember that."

"While you're vehemently denying your obvious romance with Miss Trinket, she's still missing and we still need to find her. Did anyone see her at dinner last night?" Coin asks.

"She was probably busy giving this guy all the hugs she can manage," Finnick replies, nodding at Haymitch.

"Told you, I didn't see her since she left the briefing. Besides, I was sat with you at dinner last night," Haymitch growls.

Boggs enters the room and listens in. "Who's gone missing?" he asks.

"Effie Trinket," Coin answers without missing a beat.

"Also known as That Capitol Woman," Johanna adds with a grin.

"Or Haymitch's Future Wife," Finnick finishes with a light chuckle and a nudge to Haymitch's ribs.

"Nudge me once more, kid," Haymitch growls. "You know I won't get married and certainly not to her. You guys want to find Trinket, go right ahead."

"No," Plutarch says with a broad smile. "We need someone with Trinket detection senses."

"Johanna's your man," Haymitch says, grinning at the chance to get back at her. "She can start a fight with Effie from seven Districts away."

Johanna glares at him and Finnick says "But the scent of Haymitch pulls her out of anything from twelve Districts. Come on, Haymitch, help find your love, your life, the mother of your children- Ow!"

Haymitch glowers at him, his hand poised to smack Finnick around the head again. "I can live just fine without her. Granted, I'd be locked up before the day's out, but I can do it. And even if I wanted kids, she wouldn't be the one I landed them with. Up to now though, I like her more than I like any of you," he snarls.

He's roped into the search anyway. "I hate you," he growls at Finnick. "It was your comment about her being love and life that got me into this."

"Shut up and focus on finding her," Johanna snaps. "It's because she's not there for you to pet that you're in such a mood. Stop blaming Finnick and try to find your clown of a fiancee."

"I'm not engaged to her, either. Do none of you get that I don't like her romantically? Or that I think she's an endless nightmare with a mouth and legs?" he shouts, getting sick of the accusations.

"You like her mouth. You've always got your eyes on it," Finnick teases.

"Not true," Haymitch replies coldly.

"He's got a point," Plutarch says. "He's not always staring at her mouth."

"Thanks, Heavensbee," Haymitch says, grinning at him.

"Sometimes he's looking at her legs," Plutarch finishes.

"Or he's asleep," Johanna adds on.

"You guys are asking for a dirt nap," Haymitch grumbles, pulling open a cupboard door.

"You're the one denying that you love her," Finnick says. "Don't know why, though. She's kind, loving, beautiful... If I didn't have Annie, I'd ask Effie out."

"Well, you have Annie," Haymitch shrugs.

Plutarch grins, seeing a chance to watch Haymitch get possessive. "Actually, if she's not taken, I might ask her out myself," he says thoughtfully. "After all, she does seem like a lovely woman. If we find her, I'll see if I can't get her to agree."

"Leave her alone, Heavensbee," Haymitch snarls.

"Only if I won't be treading on your toes," Plutarch replies smugly, watching Haymitch rip open another cupboard. "Why are you searching the cupboards?"

"She likes hiding in them. It makes her feel safe when she can't get hugs," Haymitch mutters distractedly.

"How would you know that?" Johanna asks nastily. "You don't even like her."

"Never said I don't like her, I said I don't love her," he says, pulling open another door. "I know because I was forced to work with her and found her sleeping in various cupboards over the years."

"She's weird," Johanna declares.

"Congratulations, sweetheart, your first correct statement of the evening," Haymitch responds dryly, reaching to open another door.

"No, Haymitch, that's the contraband storage room!" Plutarch yells, to no avail.

Haymitch pulls the door open and steps inside. He's met with a joyous squeal of "So many beautiful colours!"

A little thing in blue runs past him, laden with clothes and jewels, giggling happily. "Trinks!" he shouts.

She stops so fast that she falls flat on her face. "Oh!" she squeaks. "Mitch? That you?"

Her voice is slow and high, as if she's just been winded. "Yeah, it's me. Why are you in here?" he asks, going to kneel beside her, listening to his joints protesting.

"I was looking for a cupboard and I got lost in here, then I saw the clothes and I just couldn't resist," she says, still gasping.

"You realise this is contraband from the Capitol citizens, right?" Haymitch asks.

"What else would be so beautiful and colourful here, in the dullest greys you could possibly imagine? Grey is such a dull colour..." Effie sighs. "I miss brightness."

"Well, you'd hate Twelve, most people have either grey eyes or grey skin," he says, slightly offended.

She looks horrified. "No, that's not how I meant it. I meant as a rule, grey is a dull colour. I like your eyes, though. That's a lively grey. It changes," she amends, looking horrorstruck.

"Yeah, that makes it better," Haymitch deadpans. "Come on, show me what you found, sweetheart."

She stands and starts leading him around, pointing out some of the stuff she likes. "Look at this! How beautiful is this?" she asks, holding a blue gown to her body.

"It matches your eyes," he tells her, grinning at how happy she finally looks. "If I'd known you were gonna stop whining so much, I'd have brought you here ages ago."

"You knew about this place?" she asks, her eyes widening in shock.

"Of course I did," he replies, smirking. "I brought your stuff here."

"I hate you," she grumbles. "Still, I know it's safe. Come here. We're alone and I miss you."

"You hated me three seconds ago," he laughs but puts his arms around her regardless.

"I can hate you and love you at the same time," she murmurs and kisses him happily. "You make me confused about why we bothered sometimes."

"And you make me question whether I was high that night," he murmurs, kissing her back.

"What was that about not loving her?" Plutarch asks smugly from behind them.

"What?!" Haymitch demands, whipping around to find Plutarch, a broadly grinning Finnick on his left and a sickened looking Johanna.

Effie giggles "Oh, of course he loves me, we've been married for five years."

That wipes the smiles off Plutarch and Finnick's faces, surprising Johanna so much that she forgets she feels sick to gape at them. "And you didn't tell us... Why?"

Haymitch shrugs. "Well, we didn't want you nosey things begging us to do stupid stuff."

Effie adds "Like stopping drinking. Or getting children so we can go watch the Wiggles reunite or something disastrous like that," shuddering as she speaks.

"We don't ever want you two reproducing, we all hate you enough as it is," Johanna snaps.

"We're all still hung up on the fact that you've been _married_ for _five years_ and _didn't tell us!"_ exclaims Finnick, staring at them both. "How could you hide it for five years?!"

"Needs must, dear," Effie tells him, completely disregarding Johanna. "President Snow was unhappy because he didn't want one of his Victors marrying a Capitol woman, especially when said Victor is still gorgeous and has a rather large fanbase, so he made us hush it up and swear we wouldn't ever reproduce in case the news got out."

"As if we would have anyway," Haymitch adds. "Effie would probably have baked it and thought it was a cake."

"You would have fed it vodka like you did to my poor Mittens, you horrible man, don't pretend you would have been any better at it than me! You almost killed my cat!" Effie jumps to her own defence.

"You almost drowned it with your laundry!" Haymitch snaps back.

"He climbed in there while he was drunk off _your_ alcohol! I got him out the minute I saw him!" she defends.

"Aaaaaand they're back," Johanna mutters.

"Now I see the five years married," Finnick mutters back with a touch of wonder.

"Let's leave them to it. I'd rather not be here when this argument fizzles," Plutarch whispers, tugging the younger two out as the couple edge closer to each other, shouting loudly enough to bring the District in on itself. The shouting carries down the corridor. "What are they saying?"

"She's back on his Games. It's not going to be good if they come back fuming," Finnick says nervously.

"Ah, let 'em. Them being married explains why he wouldn't let me near him," Johanna sighs.

"He's old enough to be your dad!" Plutarch exclaims.

"Old enough to be hers as well. He's got no morals about that. Trinket's only four years older than me," Johanna tells him. "Get her wasted, she'll tell you anything."

There's a loud shriek of _"You let Johanna Mason come onto you too?! Last year?!"_ from the storage closet.

"Run!" Johanna hisses and runs off. "She knows!"

Finnick and Plutarch stop dead and burst out laughing. Some things should never leave that closet.

* * *

 _That's it for this one. I'm sorry for the wait, but I've been on a serious block and dry of ideas. If you want me to take in prompts, I'm willing for anything._

 **Special call out: Phoenixsword24, I'll message you on Twitter later. :)**

 _Until next time, Cat. xoxo_


	18. Drinking, Dancing and Goodnight Kisses

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _Thanks to Phoenixsword24, whose prompt was: "_ _How about: Haymich and Effie are at a party and Effie is drinking a little too much. She actually starts dancing and twerking on the dance floor, and Haymich has to stop her. It ends with Haymich helping her to bed and her kissing him goodnight."_

 ** _Drinking, Dancing and Goodnight Kisses._**

"Are you going to go ask her to dance or what?" Chaff asks, watching the two Escorts from Six and Twelve as they throw insults back and forth.

"What would be the point? She's livid now. If I wanted to die, I would do it myself. It wouldn't be as humiliating as having a tiny thing like Trinket take me down," Haymitch sighs, downing his drink.

 _"Hallowe'en was six months ago!"_ Six's Escort shouts.

 _"So was the circus, so I suppose we're both late!"_ Effie snaps back.

Haymitch smirks as Chaff lets out a low whistle. "Your girl's sassy," Chaff comments.

"Not my girl," Haymitch mutters. A slap echoes over the music and Effie storms over. "Uh oh, here it comes..."

She doesn't even look at them, she just looks at the bar tender. "A bottle of whatever it is these two are having, please," she says, clearly trying to regain her composure.

The bar tender looks a bit scared as he gives her the drink. "Here you go, ma'am," he says nervously.

She gives him the money with a word of thanks and sits next to Haymitch, cracking open the lid and beginning to drink straight from the bottle, too annoyed to care about decency. "What was it over this time?" Haymitch asks warily.

"She called me a washed up old hag," Effie grumbles between gulps. "Anyone else and I wouldn't have cared, but she is a hypocrite. She is seventeen years older than I am and if I am old in her eyes, she must be a dinosaur."

Haymitch smirks at Chaff. "Surely she should be leaving soon?" Chaff asks, unsure of the age their Escorts retire at.

"No, she isn't. She," here she clears her throat with a wicked and sarcastic smirk, " _worked_ too hard to get where she is and our dear President wants her to stay on as long as possible."

"You say that like you think she hasn't worked at all, honey," Chaff prods.

"She didn't. Everyone here knows how she got where she is. It involves plastic surgery, sponsors, Gamemakers, Victors and, in some stories, even President Snow himself. I don't know how true the last bit is, but the rest is humiliatingly true. She claims it's secret, but that's nonsense," Effie tells him, then turns to the bar tender and holds up her empty bottle, requesting another.

"So you know for a fact that she's basically slept her way to her job?" Haymitch asks.

"She was the one who ended most of my relationships. They cheated on me with her, so yes I do know for a fact that she did," Effie grouches. "Adrienne Mitchell honestly is the most disgusting excuse for a person in the world."

"Wait a second, she took my title!" Chaff exclaims, loudly enough that people turn to look.

"You what?" Haymitch asks, having been enjoying provoking Effie's anger.

"She told me that I'm the most disgusting excuse of a person in the world!" Chaff exclaims, no less loudly and with an undertone of fake hurt. "Trinket, I am wounded. You've always hated me the most."

She turns to him. "Yes. But I can stand you while you're asleep. The mere thought of her breathing is enough for me to want to kill her. Don't take it personally, I still hate you while you're capable of speech," she tells him, then orders three drinks, one for each of them.

"Is this your apology for giving my title to someone else?" Chaff asks.

"Yes. What else?" she asks, lifting an eyebrow as she begins to drink some more.

Haymitch watches her warily, afraid that this much alcohol in her body will kill her, seeing as she's nowhere near as tolerant of alcohol as he is and she's much smaller than him. Chaff grins at her. "I'm gonna get offended at you more often, honey," he says happily.

"You do that. I'm not going to be tipsy more often," she replies. After another six bottles, she gets unsteadily to her feet. "I'm gonna go dancing."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Effs?" Haymitch asks, looking at her with some concern.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Effie slurs curiously. "I'm the best dancer... You watch!"

She staggers off, barely able to walk. "Oh, this is gonna be excellent," Chaff crows happily.

"This is going from bad to disaster," Haymitch groans, barely able to watch as Effie starts her attempts at dancing. She falls over a few times, despite her best efforts to stay in time with the others, happily swinging herself around. Haymitch covers his eyes in embarrassment, wanting her well out of his way. "Nope..."

Minutes later, Chaff bursts out laughing. "What is she _doing?!_ That shouldn't be legal in a dress that tight!" he chokes out.

Haymitch moves his hands from his eyes long enough to see his drunken colleague with her hands resting on her thighs and... "She's _twerking,"_ he winces, looking away from her and ordering another drink.

"You should stop her before someone gets a video of that," Chaff gets out through his hysterical laughter.

Haymitch sighs. "Fine, hold my drink," he groans and gets up, going over to Effie. "Come on, little thing. That's enough."

"No, it isn't! I'm having fun!" she exclaims, slurring heavily. "Lemme dance!"

"That isn't dancing, that's trying to rip your dress. We're going back to the penthouse now," he tells her wearily. "You're gonna regret this."

"I not! I happy dancing!" she squeals, wriggling.

"Happy dance when you're sober. You just look desperate," Haymitch says flatly, picking her up and swinging her over his shoulder.

"This not digniflies! Uh... How do I say that?" she asks, sounding confused.

"Dignified, and I don't think drunk you cares since you were just twerking in public," he tells her, acutely aware of Chaff laughing madly. He carries her to the elevator.

"But I dance pretty, you know I do!" she protests. "Why'd you stop me?"

"That was embarrassing. On all levels. That was just humiliating. Never do that again," he says.

"I don't like orders," she mumbles.

"I don't care," he replies, liking that she's not fighting. She goes quiet until they reach their penthouse.

He puts her down and she grins. "I dance now!" she squeaks happily.

"No, you don't!" he exclaims, capturing her.

"Ooh, cuddles!" she shrieks and hugs him. "Mine!"

"No! This is not... Ah, I've lost this one, haven't I?" he sighs.

"Yes! Mitch lost to his squishy," she coos happily. "Effie win."

He sighs. "Bedtime, small stuff," he murmurs, petting her hair.

"You come bed with me?" she asks in confusion.

"No, I'm putting you in your bed and letting you sleep," he corrects.

"You stay," she orders. "You stay and you cuddle me."

"No chance, bossy," he says, failing to hide his amusement. He takes her to her room, trying to breathe while she chokes him with her hug. He pries her arms off while he gets her night clothes and starts helping her get ready for bed. She decides to be stubborn as he tries to take the dress and folds her arms. "Princess, let me get this off."

"Not until you stay," she pouts. "You stay, I lets you."

"Fine, I'll stay," he groans, hoping she'll behave for him.

She smiles brightly and lets him get her undressed and in her nightie. He lifts her into her bed and tucks her in. "You stay. You promised," she reminds him smugly, gripping his wrist.

"Okay, but just until you fall asleep," he tells her, getting under the covers with her.

She grabs him around the ribs and kisses his lips. "You mine now. Goodnight," she slurs happily, then passes out on top of him.

He laughs quietly. "Sleep well, sweetheart," he whispers, then tries to extract himself. Her arms tighten and he sighs. "Captured. Unbelievable."

* * *

 _That's it for now! Thank you to Aaron (Phoenixsword24) who prompted this and to Hayffietrash for their review. :) Until next update, Cat. xoxo_


	19. Changed Haymitch

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _Changed Haymitch_**

Haymitch is lying on the sofa in the penthouse when she arrives. She's so pale that she looks like she should be dead in a lake, her dark hair falling around her shoulders like a black waterfall. Her eyes are deep set and dark brown, her lips an unnaturally dark blood red. He has to admire the shine and precision of her lipstick, the accuracy of how it's applied. She looks so out of place but he's attracted to her. "Who are you?" he asks, sipping his liquor. "I don't think my Escort's gonna like you being here. She won't be the prettiest girl in the room any more."

The woman tilts her head at him, then lunges. The next thing he knows is that she's on top of him and forcing his head back. She bites his throat and his head falls back naturally as his drink spills all over the floor. He thinks he must have passed out, because the next thing he remembers is seeing her watching him, a sweet and slightly metallic taste in his mouth. She gives him an enchanting smile and whispers in a soft and melodic voice unlike any he's ever known "Forget about all of this. You'll never have to worry again."

He's only too happy to oblige her. He passes out again to utter bliss and wakes up to a soft voice with a Capitol accent murmuring "Haymitch, it's okay. You can wake up at any minute, help is on the way."

He opens his eyes and asks "Effie? That you?"

"Yes, dear, it's me," Effie says, relief showing on her made up features. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Effie, where did that woman go?" he asks, sitting up and turning to face his Escort.

"Which woman, dear?" she asks, confusion clear on her face.

"That woman who was in here when I passed out," he says. "She had black hair, she was really pale."

"Honey, there was no woman. Are you sure you're okay?" Effie asks, edging closer.

"There was! Effie, I swear, there was a woman in here," he insists.

"I checked the tapes, Haymitch. There was nobody," she says gently. "I think you may have hurt yourself."

"Effie, I haven't hurt myself, she was really here! She bit me! Look!" he insists and shows her his neck.

"Oh," she murmurs. "You're not wrong. Something did bite you. It doesn't look like human teeth, though. Okay. I believe you. There was a woman if you say there was. I checked that the tapes weren't doctored. They aren't. You mustn't have been up here when you were bitten or when she was with you."

"I was, Effie. You saw me on those tapes. I was here all day," he insists. "Please believe me, you're the only one who ever does."

"I do believe you," she tells him. "Cameras can be tampered with. If you like, I'll have this fully investigated."

"I like. Effie, thank you," he says, knowing it's rare of him to thank anyone.

She smiles. "You're welcome. Helping you is my privilege," she says.

"Effs, could you get me a drink? I feel kinda dizzy," he tells her, looking kind of sheepish.

"Of course," she whispers and gets up to get him a drink. "Would you like to be put back on the sofa?"

He nods and watches as she places his glass on a coaster and lifts him carefully. He wraps his arm around her waist and catches a sweet scent from her. He doesn't let go as she deposits him on the sofa, tugging her onto his lap. "Stay?" he asks.

"Of course," she murmurs, hugging him. He buries his face on her neck, inhaling the overwhelmingly delicious scent coming from her and feeling happier and dizzier as he inhales her scent. "Haymitch, are you okay?"

He lifts his head and smiles at her. "I'm fine," he tells her cheerfully.

He's confused as she screams and scrambles backward so fast that she falls off his lap and hits her back on the table. "What are those?!" she yelps, shaking.

"What are what?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowing together.

She gets up and takes his hand, making him press his finger tip to a tooth. "These," she murmurs, shaking violently.

He probes at his teeth and his eyes go wide. "They're..." he whispers.

"Haymitch, they're fangs. Is this a joke?" she asks, worried sick now.

"No. It's her! She did this!" he exclaims. "I'm gonna find her and stick a stake in her!"

"What?!" Effie squeaks. "You can't!"

"Watch me do it," he growls. "Nobody can do that to me and get away with it!"

She stops him. "Haymitch, this is madness. You can't kill someone for this. What if you get the wrong person?"

"Never stopped me before," he snarls. "Look, this woman made me even more dangerous and what's worse, she made me dangerous to you. That's unforgivable. You're off-limits and to have you around a threat is a no-go."

"Then learn to control your urges! Or better yet, you can have me as a blood supply," she says. "I can produce enough blood to feed you satisfactorily."

"Not a chance. I refuse to feed off you like a leech. You're a person, not a snack," he growls, then hugs her close. "You're too special to be used like that."

She snuggles up to him and murmurs "If you need it, you're welcome to it. We're a team, we help each other through everything."

"Effie, you know that I can't be trusted with you," he murmurs.

"I trust you with me. I trusted you with me when you had a knife and more alcohol in you than a distillery. This could be a lot easier for you," she whispers. "You're not that different to what you used to be. You're just less easy to kill."

He laughs and picks her up. "You're still human and delicate," he whispers. "You could still carry little people. That'll have to change. From what I've read, vampire and human hybrids are deadly."

"Oh, stop reading _Twilight_ ," she giggles. "You won't sparkle in the sunlight."

"I hope not. That's a fairy," he chuckles.

She laughs with him and snuggles him. "You see? You're still my Haymitch, regardless of species."

He grins and snuggles her. "Yeah, still yours. You'd better not let me bite you."

Her laughter rings in his ears and he smiles, knowing he gets to keep her, regardless of what he is.

* * *

 _A/N: That's it for today! Just for the record, I have nothing against the Twilight fandom, it's just how I perceive vampires and their ways. Sparkling just does not fit vampires in my mind. Please feel free to drop a comment on it if you enjoyed. **hugs** BlackCat46 out! xoxo_


	20. Hayffie With a Side of Cuddling

_**A/N: Hi, everyone still following this. I just had a look and realised I've not updated since the tenth of December! That was a shock to my system. I do have a prompt in the works, but my memory's vanished. I'll explain my absence after the chapter.**_

 **Hayffie With a Side of Cuddling**

"Haymitch?" a small, timid voice asks from the doorway of the living room.

Haymitch looks up from his book, his eyes crinkling at the corners a little when he sees his former escort with her hair curling softly around her shoulders and dressed in a pale pink nightgown that drops to her ankles. "Hey," he says, bookmarking his page and closing the book. "You okay?"

"Mm," she hums softly. "I... I can't sleep."

"Okay. Nightmares?" he asks. He won't admit it out loud, but he blames himself for her nightmares. Despite her constant assurances that he could no more have prevented that than he could have prevented the existence of their country, he still believes that he could have done something to change what happened to her and taken her with him during the rebellion. She shakes her head a bit, prompting him to ask "Then why can't you sleep?"

"I..." she starts, then goes scarlet.

"Come on, you can tell me," he says gently.

She studies him, then seems to decide upon trusting him before she whispers "I'm lonely."

"You're lonely?" he asks, hoping for clarification.

"Yes. I know it's silly to be so childish, but it's hard to sleep when I get lonely," she sighs, looking uncomfortable.

"No, I get it," he says quietly. "It's not childish, or silly. What do you want? Like a teddy or something?"

"I was just looking for a hug," she whispers hurriedly, blushing furiously. "I know it's really stupid of a grown woman to seek affection before bed. I'll, um, I'll just go back upstairs."

"No, you won't," Haymitch says, then smiles a bit. "Come here, Princess. It's hugs you need, it's hugs you'll get."

"Haymitch, you hate having people in your personal space," she says nervously, her voice trembling a little. "Won't that be uncomfortable?"

"Nah," he chuckles. "Come on, Effs. Do I have to pick you up?"

"No," she replies immediately, a note of fear in her voice. "I don't love being picked up."

"I know. Come on over here and get a cuddle," he tells her. "I even bought a furry blanket for you, you know, in case you got cold while sitting down here."

She smiles a bit and he revels at the sight, pride and happiness filling him at the knowledge that she's smiling. "Okay," she murmurs and almost zooms into his arms, her feet barely making little padding sounds as she runs to him. She scrambles into his arms and curls up, hugging him tightly. "Nice... Warm."

He covers her with the blanket and cradles her like she's a tiny baby. "There you go," he whispers fondly, kissing her forehead. "You get some rest, Princess. You'll be all snug and safe here."

* * *

Haymitch doesn't know how, but somehow, in the past week, Effie has become a part of his night time routine. She'll get sleepy, then she'll run to him while he reads and get on his lap or in his bed with him before she curls into a ball. He'll wrap his arms around her small frame and hold her while she sleeps. He does notice, however, a distinct and fantastic change in her. She's stopped having nightmares. When he holds her, she smiles in her sleep and cuddles up. He notices the pattern of her sleeping improving as she curls up with him. He sees that her sleeping in his bed with him hasn't just improved her sleeping, but his own sleeping patterns too. He wakes up in the middle of the night to see her asleep with her thumb in her mouth and her expression peaceful. "How come you're a massive whirlwind all day, but you can look so small and innocent at night?" he questions the sleeping figure next to him before kissing her nose.

The next morning holds a surprise for him. He has a still sleeping Effie snuggled against his side, and a shocked Katniss and an amused Peeta watching from the foot of the bed. "So, you wanna tell us what this is all about?" Peeta asks.

"No, the question is, are you two dressed?" Katniss asks, looking a little bit green at the idea she's just had.

"Yeah, we're dressed," Haymitch grumbles. "And what's what all about, boy?"

"You and Effie," Peeta chuckles. "I didn't know you were a couple."

"Fat chance," Haymitch mutters. "We're friends with cuddling benefits. As in, she cuddles up and it makes her feel safe enough to sleep. No nightmares and she gets all the affection she needs. She wouldn't ever want a couply relationship with me."

"Don't be so shoes..." Effie mumbles, clearly not _that_ asleep any more. "I wants the couply with you."

Haymitch pets Effie's hair awkwardly. "You confused her," he groans accusingly at Peeta. "Is there any reason you two woke us by watching us sleep?"

"We needed Effie, but when we found her bed empty, we assumed she was in one of four places. Bathroom, dead, Capitol, or with you," Katniss says.

"Why'd you need the small one?" Haymitch asks.

"Average," Effie mumbles. "Quiet, please, I'm sleeping."

The Effie-shaped lump in the duvet presses up against Haymitch, her head landing on his chest as her thumb lands back in her mouth. Haymitch grins at her, the look in his eyes almost loving. He wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head before hissing "You two should know that seven in the morning is still time for sleeping."

"Not really," Peeta says. "That's when we open the bakery."

"And apparently, my front door," Haymitch grumbles. "Look, you two, we love you, but we love you after eight thirty. We're not conscious before that, except for life-threatening emergencies. Now, whatever disaster you're having can wait, I've got an Effie to hold and do absolutely nothing with."

"Fine," Katniss says. "As long as you don't show us anything gross, all will be fine."

The two of them leave and Haymitch looks at Effie's sleeping face with fondness. "I'm not gonna tell you this while you're awake, Effs, but you are the single most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Don't tell anyone, I've got the reputation of a mean old man to uphold," he whispers, then kisses her forehead. "It wouldn't do for me to be caught going soft."

"Nope. Now sleep," Effie mumbles. "We can talk pretty stuff later, pretty stuff."

He chuckles and holds her close, realising, in that moment, that there's no place in the world that could ever feel better to him than holding her like this does. He grins and goes back to sleep, knowing he'll wake to the sight of her.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, so. Six months, one extreme wait for more. But I have been very blocked and uninspired. Life got chaotic, as always with life. It hasn't felt like six months, you know? But thank you for sticking it out with me. You guys are the best. I intend to write so much more now. If anyone wants to chat, my inbox is open.**_

 _ **And just so we're clear, it was SUPER early morning when I wrote this, so please point out any mistakes I made here or anything that could have been better. Thanks in advance. See you all in the next one-shot. Ttyl. Cat. xoxo**_


	21. Living in the Life of Hayffie

_**A/N: Wow! Two updates this week! Okay, I have some things to say.**_

 _ **One, to Phoenixsword24, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I'll message you soon. I'm sorry if you've DM-ed me or anything, my phone's broken, so I'm not getting email notifications. :( Thanks for your review.**_

 _ **Two, to the Guest reader who requested a full Capitol Games, that is an incredible idea. I don't know if that could be just a one-shot though, so I will write it as a full chapter length story, with a preview chapter as a one-shot. I do love that, so it will definitely happen.**_

 _ **Three, to the Guest reader who wants something more sexual, containing a Hayffie genetic cocktail, and Effie helping Katniss with a pregnancy, this one's for you.**_

 _ **And with that said, the latter prompt contains not entirely graphic lemony stuff and I am truly sorry if it's awful. I did a lot of reading up for this, so hopefully it's not as horrible as I think it is. If you dislike lemons, this is probably not the thing for you. :) If you do, however, read on and enjoy!**_

 _ **Warning: It's**_ **long.** _ **Like, super long. It didn't want to stop growing. And it's very much M rated. Let me know if I should change the rating entirely.**_

 _Living in the Life of Hayffie_

The music shaking the whole building does nothing for Effie's oncoming migraine. She's come to this party to escape the stress of the publicity. It's been a year since the war was won by the rebels, and Effie, as the last living escort, has a particular amount of attention that she's spent the last year getting rid of. Now that she has no obligation to be a part of the public spectacles, she just wants to settle into a normal life with Haymitch, Katniss, and Peeta. She turns back around, wanting to speak to Haymitch, when she sees that she's all alone. "Oh, unbelievable," she groans to herself. "I turn away for half a minute, and the damn idiot's done a bunk on me again!"

She gets up and starts to wander around the party in the hopes of finding him. She has drink after drink, vaguely realising that she's becoming a female version of Haymitch. The thought makes her grimace for a second before she shakes herself and has another cocktail. The room starts to get hazy as she trudges around, trying to find Haymitch and stay balanced on her seven inch heels. A door opens beside her and two strong hands pull her into a dark closet, causing her to yelp and squirm. "Shh!" a voice hisses.

"Haymitch, is that you?" she asks, her words slurring together a little. "If you're not Haymitch, these heels will pierce your junk."

"No, I'm Haymitch," he whispers, then flicks on a lamp, revealing a smallish room. "I was wondering when you were gonna come in here."

"Well, I was looking for you," she slurs softly. "I have a really nasty migraine coming on. Do you want to go home?"

He smirks a bit, his hand landing on her waist. "Home sounds good," he says. "Less chance of someone walking in on us."

His hand drifts around to her bottom, his smirk growing as he gently kneads her flesh through her skirt. "You're not properly wasted yet, I see," she purrs, pressing her chest to his, her eyes darkening a little. "Tell you what. You and I have a quick one in here, then things get a little rougher back home."

He smiles at the thought, using his grip on her to pull her closer to him, his lips crushing hers in a bruising kiss. Taking it in stride, she kisses him back with just as much force, trying to take control. Sensing that, Haymitch snarls softly, nudging her lips open as he pushes her back to the wall, using his own weight to press her harder against the wall. A small squeak escapes her, her hands wandering down his back and snaking into the back of his pants. He breaks away from her and mutters "You're eager."

"This is no time to take things slow, someone is very likely to have the same idea as us and try to use this room," Effie argues, biting his jaw lightly, not wanting to hurt him.

Haymitch smirks at that, rubbing her hips. She growls softly and grinds against him, a little more forcefully than she'd intended to, coaxing a quiet moan from him. She smiles victoriously, then slides her hands off his behind to undo the front of his jeans, smirking as he groans quietly. "Eff, you're a tease," he hisses.

"You've told me that many, many times before, darling," she chuckles. "You've always enjoyed what my teasing leads to."

He groans as she runs her fingertip down his now-exposed manhood. "Princess, what happened to needing to be quick?" he gasps out quietly, trying to calm his excitement.

"True," she whispers, then slides her underwear off, tucking it into his shirt pocket and rubbing herself against him some more. "Now, my darling Haymitch, I believe there's something you'll want to do..."

"There are a lot of things I want to do where you're concerned," he mutters into her ear, then nips her neck teasingly.

"Dirty man," she laughs, her voice almost a purr.

* * *

Three weeks have passed by and Effie's finally shaken off the reporters and camera crews, which she's grateful for, because she's finally able to go grocery shopping without being mobbed by over-eager Capitol people with microphones and cameras. "Haymitch, I'm home!" she calls.

Haymitch walks in, only in his boxers, his hair flattened on one side and wildly sticking in every direction on the other. "Didn't know you were out," he mumbles, his voice slurred from sleep.

"Haymitch, how are you just waking up? It's four in the afternoon!" she exclaims.

"You kept me up last night," he mumbles, reaching for the coffee pot. "You were wriggling all night and when you woke up, I thought I'd catch a few hours. So naturally, being the annoying little thing you are, you took a shower."

"I was all hot and sticky after so much thrashing around," she defends. "I couldn't sleep, it was all too uncomfortable."

He nods. "I gathered. By the way, I have bruises from your squirming," he grumbles.

"I'm sorry," she says, pouting a bit. "I'll be more careful if I have to squirm any more."

"Thanks," he says, rubbing his face as he becomes more alert. "Hey, uh, any reason your bras are all scattered across the bedroom floor?"

"Yes," she says. "I couldn't fit comfortably in any of them. They're too tight and my breasts are protesting me even wearing this top right now. It's like a truly horrible period's coming."

He makes a face. "Great. That means tampons, right?" he asks.

"You're just miserable because it means that you'll be covered in my blood if we have sex," she teases. "Look, it's only a week and I still have other methods of pleasing you."

That makes him laugh a bit. "Damn, woman. Where's this coming from, huh? You didn't want to last night. I distinctly remember a threat of a punch to the junk so hard that my grandkids would feel it," he chuckles.

"That was last night and I would never really hurt you intentionally," she says, turning to kiss him. "Anyway, I want a nap before sex. That trip to the grocery store's really drained me."

"Really?" he asks in confusion. "You're never normally nap tired when you come home from there."

"I am now," she counters. "That, and uh, I'm not having fried onions."

"Okay, why?" he asks, wondering why she'd suddenly want to avoid certain foods.

"Because the smell makes me want to be sick. I smelled the stuff when I walked by the food court. Disgusting," she says, putting away their groceries. As soon as she's done, she sighs and kisses him. "I want to nap. You may only wake me if it's life-threatening or you're panicking."

"Okay. You go rest," he says, then slaps her behind. She gives him a small smile before stretching out and going to the living room, curling up on the sofa. Haymitch studies how she's sleeping, seeing that she's not sleeping in the corner of the L that she usually likes to fall asleep in. She's at the other end of the sofa entirely, a throw over her and a cushion under her head. He sits in the corner of the L to watch her. She stays still, deeply asleep, for about an hour. After that, she bolts awake and throws the fluffy throw into his face, racing to the bathroom, making him worry and call out "Effs?"

"Nature calls!" she yells back. She returns four minutes later and sniffs up. "Ew. Whatever that is, it stinks. Anyway."

She curls up next to him and leans her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around her, then notices something. "Eff, do you feel okay?" he asks quietly.

"Um, I think I do," she says. "I feel a bit yuck, but I'm okay. Why?"

"I think you're running a fever. You're really warm," he says.

"I've just been under a throw," she reminds him. "And I've napped. I'm going to be warm for a little while."

"Okay," he says, shrugging it off. "You want some strawberry ice cream?"

She processes his words, then makes a disgusted face. "No, thank you very much," she says, shuddering.

"How come? Didn't you say you loved strawberry ice cream?" he asks, perplexed.

"Yes, but it's revolting, so no," she hisses. "No ice cream. Snuggles."

She wraps herself around him like an octopus. "O... Kay?" he asks uncertainly. "Snuggles it is, then. You get weird when you have periods."

"Get used to it, I've got to have these things every month. If you want to stop this without making me have a hysterectomy, we'll have to have a baby," she chuckles.

"Well, that'd be fine," he replies casually. "A small you. Not loving the knowledge that you'll have extended period symptoms, but at least something good comes out of it instead of just torture for you."

She laughs. "Aww, do you want to be a daddy?" she asks quietly.

"I wouldn't mind it," he says, shrugging. "But that means you'd need to want to be a mom, which you've repeatedly said you don't."

"I've changed my mind. Kind of. I only want to have your babies," she tells him. "Your genes and mine combined would be a real force of nature."

"Fair enough. But I'd like to be married to you before we have any little peanuts," he says, patting her stomach.

"Ohh, don't," she groans, getting up.

"What's up?" he asks nervously.

"I need to go to the bathroom and that did not help," she whines. "Five minutes."

"You've just been ten minutes ago, how come you need to go again?" he asks.

"Ask my useless bladder!" she snaps, running off to the bathroom. "Oh, and we have dinner with the kids tonight!"

"When were you telling me that?!" he demands.

"I think I just did!" she calls. She comes back a few minutes later and lies down, her head in his lap. "I want to nap some more."

"Okay. You want a blanket?" he asks.

"Mm," she hums, curling up. "If you like."

She's asleep before he's picked up the throw.

* * *

"Effie, how come you haven't opened these?" Haymitch asks, holding up the tampons as he walks into the kitchen, where Effie's now enthusiastically stirring up one of her latest concoctions.

"The tampons?" she asks, turning to look at him.

"Yeah, the tampons. How come you haven't opened them? You were due to have your period just after you started acting all... Not you," he says.

"I know," she sighs. "It's really odd. The weirdest bit is, I feel so sick, so hungry, and I had to get up five times last night just to relieve my bladder."

He groans. "I know, you woke me up every time," he informs her. "How come you're still not comfortable in bed?"

"Well, take a look!" she says, gesturing to her chest. "What's different?"

"Uh, you've actually got breasts now?" he asks, smirking mockingly.

"Oh, ha ha, Mr Comedian. Don't give up your day job," she snarls. "No, really. I know they're a lot bigger now, but look."

"Your nipples are really prominent in that shirt," he comments, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Hey, pervert, I can see you getting excited by this," she snaps. "Hon, I'm getting worried, what if this is cancer?"

"Look at you, going for the worst case scenario," he sighs. "Have you considered a pregnancy test, Eff?"

"No," she says, then squeaks. "I need to get some! Then we can find out if we're having a baby!"

"You sit yourself down, Princess," he says, then kisses her. "If you're pregnant, this baby's going to suck up your energy like your tablet sucks up power."

She grins at him. "Be safe, you," she says. "You have to come home in one piece."

"I will," he tells her, kissing her nose before he leaves.

She decides to lie down after a few minutes of being alone, grabbing her book and snuggling down on the sofa, one hand on her lower stomach in the hopes of feeling something unusual happen. Nothing does, but she's definitely excited now. Within minutes, she's sound asleep, which is the sight Haymitch arrives home to half an hour later. He smiles at the sight of her all curled up, her book propped against her stomach and her face blissfully relaxed. She wakes after another hour, them smiles at Haymitch. "Hi... You only just get back?" she asks sleepily.

"I've been home for an hour, sweetheart," he says gently, grabbing her hand. "You were asleep when I got home. I've got the tests."

"Good," she mumbles, then kisses him. "Because I need the toilet. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just really curious. You go do that test, Princess," he tells her gently, cupping her cheek.

She nods and bolts to the bathroom. Haymitch listens to the tap running and begins to think of what will happen if the test turns out positive. He's fairly certain it will, but he's scared that she'll lose it, that she'll die in childbirth and leave him alone with their baby, that the baby will die during the birth or just after and leave them devastated, that he'll lose them both and be all alone again, that the Games will start again and their baby would be reaped to its death... He knows that last one's a long shot, but he doesn't want to rule it out entirely, you never know in Panem. Effie's light tread comes rapidly down the steps and he knows he has a limited time now before he finds out if he's a father. "Well?" he asks.

Effie's mind is in a tangled mess of train wrecked thoughts now. "It's positive," she tells him gently, handing him the test to prove her point. She's scared silly, convinced that their child will die if she does anything even slightly unhealthy or unsafe. "We're having a baby."

The words hang in the air, the terror settling over them as it sinks in. "We're actually gonna be parents," Haymitch murmurs, in the hopes of somehow making it feel real instead of numbing.

"Yes," Effie whispers, then she sobs, taking both herself and Haymitch by surprise.

"You okay?" Haymitch asks softly, shifting up to her. She realises, the thought coming vaguely outlined in the fog of terror, that the only thing that could get through to Haymitch when he's lost in his fear of being a father, is her in distress. She opens her mouth to respond, only getting out another sob. He tightens his grip on her and holds her while she cries. Her tears confuse her, since she's still numb with the surprise of being pregnant, she doesn't feel sad at all. Haymitch, however, is terrified, and seeing her cry just makes him miserable as well as sad. "Effie?"

She chokes out "I'm sorry, I don't actually know why I'm crying. I'm not sad about this."

"You're happy?" he asks hopefully, thinking it might be happy tears.

"I think so... I may be in shock," she says softly. "What about you?"

"Same," he replies, wiping the tears off Effie's face. "Sweetheart, I know that the outcome of this is gonna be the best interest of us all, so... What do you want to do?"

"What do you mean, what do I want to do?" she asks, looking up at him. "Do you mean what do I want to do with the baby?"

"Yeah," he says, kissing her nose.

"Well... This is a joint decision," she says. "If it were my choice, I'd keep it without question or even thinking about it. What about you? What would you do if it were solely your decision?"

"If I was the one carrying, I'd keep it," he says. "I'd like to keep the kid. Since you're the mommy, you're the one with the final say in it."

"We agree," she breathes, staring at him with something akin to wonder on her face. "We have an important decision, and not only did we handle it like grown ups, but... We agree on it too!"

"When did we become mature?" he asks, then hugs her close. "So, are we having a baby?"

"We certainly are," she whispers. "And we have... Thirty four weeks to prepare."

"How do you know that?" he asks.

"The test. Six weeks," she tells him, smiling.

* * *

 _Thirty three weeks later_

* * *

"Haymitch, I swear I'm going to kill you!" Effie bellows.

"What have I done this time?!" Haymitch yells back, genuinely curious. "I haven't moved off the sofa!"

"You're the reason this baby exists, so by extension, it is your fault that my back feels broken!" she screeches, half-storming and half-waddling into the living room, glaring at him.

"You know I can't take you seriously when you're trying to attack me on those tiny toothpick legs of yours," he chuckles.

"What's wrong with my legs?" she growls.

"Nothing's _wrong_. The baby's just big and you're so small," he laughs, watching her as she waddles over to him. "You walk like a penguin."

"I'll make you walk like a penguin if you like," she growls and gives him a pointed look at his junk. "I have a mean punch."

"Ah, fight me, small thing," he chuckles, then kisses her gently.

She shoves him off her angrily. "No. You don't tell me I walk like a penguin when it's _your_ child I'm carrying, then try to kiss me like you haven't just upset me!" she snaps, then folds her arms under her chest before groaning in exasperation. "I hate being pregnant."

He sighs and strokes her cheek. "You've only got to put up with this for a week more, if not less," he whispers. "Then you'll start to feel less yucky."

"So now you think I'm repulsive?!" she hisses angrily.

"No, of course not," he tries.

"Yes you do! You haven't had _any_ sexual interest in me at all lately! Everything's been purely about the baby, which is all well and good, but I'm still a woman, even if I am currently carrying a small human! I still need to have sex and to be treated like a human!" she shouts, then curls up as much as she can around her stomach. "I'll never be sexy again..."

Haymitch pulls her into his arms and kisses the top of her head. "Princess, you're already sexy," he whispers to her. "The only reason we haven't had sex lately is because I don't want to hurt you. You've had horrible back aches, head aches, nausea, dizziness, and you've had so much tenderness everywhere. I've wanted you all this time, I just hate the thought of ever hurting you."

"You're being sweet again, stop it, it's not normal," she sobs, curling up to him.

"There's just no winning with you, is there?" he chuckles softly and cuddles her. "Why don't you tell me what you need?"

"I need to get this baby out of my body before I do any more crazy things. I don't know how to be rational any more and it's weird," she sniffs, snuggling up to him. "In the meantime, I want to nap."

He laughs and cuddles her close. "Okay, Princess, you nap," he whispers, kissing her.

Only an hour later, she's awake again and groans. "I need to get up," she mumbles.

"What for?" he asks, petting her.

"A tennis match," she sighs sarcastically. "What do you think? I need the bathroom again."

"Okay," Haymitch mutters and lifts her up with ease.

"Thank you," she says, smiling. "I don't say this anywhere near as often as I should, but I love you and I appreciate everything you do for me. Please remember that."

"I will, Princess. Now you go relieve yourself," he tells her, slapping her behind as she goes.

"Cheeky," she giggles, then waddles out of the living room. She's out of the room for a good ten minutes before she returns. "Okay, I'm back."

He grins at her, then shows her a box of her favourite chocolates. "Look what I've got," he chuckles. "Come on, Eff, sit down."

She squeals and waddles closer as quickly as she can. She stops and gasps, gripping the arm of the sofa. "Ooh..." she murmurs.

"What's up, Effs?" he asks nervously.

"I think I wet myself a little," she murmurs.

"What?" he asks.

"Well, something wet just landed in my pants and I don't like that kind of wet," she hisses. "It feels gross."

"Like discharge or amniotic fluid?" he asks.

"One of those," she replies, then winces. "Is it visible?"

"You're wearing black. It's not visible, no," he tells her.

"Okay, good," she sighs, grabbing a water proof sheet to sit on. "If I'm going to leak odd fluids, I'm not getting it all over the sofa."

"Clever little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs.

"I have to be, I've got two men to care for," she replies.

"Who's the other man?" he asks suspiciously. "Are you seeing someone?"

"Don't talk daft, why would I want anyone else? I've got you, and I've got our tiny man," she chuckles, rubbing her stomach. "My two men. See? You and our son. I've got a perfect marriage, I wouldn't trade this for anything. Ooh."

"What's ooh?" he asks worriedly.

"Just a cramp, nothing else," she sighs.

"You sure?" he asks, kissing her nose softly.

"Yes, I'm sure," she chuckles. "I believe there's chocolate involved?"

He hands her the box and kisses her cheek. "When there's an Effie, there's chocolates," he mutters to her, then gets up. "Want a drink?"

"Yes please. If we have hot chocolate, that'd be nice," she says, picking up a chocolate and popping it into her mouth with a contented sigh.

"I remember when that sound was my doing," he chuckles softly, watching her savouring her chocolate.

"Who said it wasn't?" she asks as soon as she's swallowed the chocolate. "You have a very attractive behind, my love."

He chuckles. "Stick to your chocolates, Princess," he jokes, then goes to make their drinks.

While alone, he contemplates his life, wondering when he became this kind of man. The kind that has a wife he can admit to loving when he's spent so long being unable to admit it, even to himself, for fear of her being taken from him. The kind of man who's not only embraced the thought of impending fatherhood, but is looking forward to it, after years of the mentality of his children being taken away and killed. The kind of man who wants to lead a normal, alcohol-free life, just so he can watch his son grow up. The sort of man who thinks of having a child to raise and smiles instead of cringing. "Ow!"

The cry from the living room startles Haymitch out of his thoughts. He runs into the living room to find Effie doubled up, the chocolates on the coffee table, forgotten. "Princess, what's wrong?" he asks, running over and grabbing her gently.

"Just a contraction, it's okay. It might be a false alarm," she sighs. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"No, I'm calling a cab, we're getting you checked out," he tells her, mind made up. "You sit back and look pretty."

She sighs "Well, I'm not pretty, but I can definitely sit back."

* * *

"Well, Mrs Abernathy, it appears that you are now nine centimetres dilated," the midwife says, removing his gloves.

"Right," Effie groans, rubbing her stomach. "When can I push this baby out of me?"

"It won't be long," the man tells her gently. "Fifteen to twenty minutes."

"What?!" she screams. "Fifteen to twenty goddamn _minutes_?! No! I need this little human out of me now! This is torture!"

Haymitch shushes her, only getting a claw mark on his hand from her incredibly sharp and pointy nails. "Dammit, Effie!" he yells.

She wails, vibrating with pain. "That's _nothing_ compared to this!" she shrieks. "If I could have that little bit of pain, I would!"

Haymitch sighs softly. "Is there no chance of giving her some drugs for this?" he asks of the midwife.

"No. She's too close to delivery. The drugs take a while to kick in. The baby will be out by the time they do," the midwife tells him.

"Great," Effie hisses. "Just great. I swear to whatever greater force there is that you and I are never, _ever_ having sex again if this is the outcome of it."

Haymitch pales visibly, making the midwife laugh. "It's okay, all moms say that during labour and I see them again not long later," he tells Haymitch, grinning. "You will _definitely_ get more sex."

"Not with me, he won't!" Effie screams, doubling up. "Oh, God! Can't you do something?!"

"Nothing to do," the midwife tells her. "I'm sorry, but this baby's coming out without the drugs."

"This child had better be alive and well behaved when it gets out of me!" she screams, scrunching up in agony.

"Just breathe, Effs," Haymitch murmurs. He quickly regrets it when her fist slams into his privates. "Ow! Effie!"

"Just breathe, Mitch!" she screeches mockingly, the pain overwhelming her. "That solves all the painful problems, doesn't it?! Breathing!"

Fifteen minutes later, the midwife slides on a fresh pair of gloves and checks Effie's dilation, then nods at her. "Okay, Mrs Abernathy, it's go time. Next contraction, you push," he says.

"About damn time, too!" she groans. The next contraction hits her, gaining a deafening screech from her. "God, I want this over!"

"Okay, I see its head. Mr Abernathy, give me your hand," the midwife says, extending his hand out to Haymitch.

Haymitch lets the midwife take his hand and guide it between Effie's legs. "Feel that little lump?" the midwife asks.

"Yeah," Haymitch says, being extremely delicate in case he hurts Effie or their baby.

"That's your baby's head," the midwife tells him.

"That's incredible," Haymitch murmurs happily.

"That means this little monster's on its way out... Ow! Oh, God, this hurts!" Effie screams, collapsing against her pillows.

"Push," the midwife instructs.

She does, wailing. "I swear, you're never getting another child, Haymitch Abernathy, I will castrate you first!" she screams.

"Here, Princess, just squeeze my hand," Haymitch says soothingly, gently taking her hand.

She screams again as the midwife instructs her to push, her grip tightening on Haymitch's hand to the point of bones cracking. She flops back, her grip loosening as the pain fades out a little. "Did I hurt you?" she asks softly.

"No, it's fine," he lies, his teeth grinding together.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, feeling guilty for all of two minutes before she cries out again.

"Push," the midwife tells her.

"Ow!" Effie screams, not daring to take hold of Haymitch's hand again.

"Okay, you're nearly there. The baby's head and shoulders are out. You're just going to have to give it a few more pushes, okay?" the midwife tells her, his eyes on the baby.

"As long as my child is born alive, I don't _care!_ " Effie screams, the pain blinding her now.

Two pushes later, there's a loud cry as the midwife lifts the newborn baby. "It's a boy," he announces, grinning at the new parents. "Congratulations."

He cuts the newborn's umbilical cord and ties it off before wrapping the baby in a blanket and giving him to Effie. She's weaker than she'd first thought and kisses her son's forehead before murmuring "Hi, sweetie..."

Haymitch asks "Aren't you gonna take him?"

"I can't," she murmurs. "The world's spinning. You need to hold him for me, I can't."

Effie passes out onto the pillow and Haymitch, taking their son from the midwife, asks "Is she gonna be okay?"

The midwife checks her over and nods. "Down here, she honestly doesn't seem to have ever given birth. She's not bleeding and she looks to be in perfect shape," he says, then goes to get a paediatrician.

* * *

Effie wakes up two hours later and groans. "Ow... Ugh. Mitch, how's our baby?" she asks.

"He's soiled himself already, he's just looking for milk," he says, smiling at her.

She sits up and looks at their baby. "Oh, he's gorgeous..." she breathes. "My beautiful baby boy, look at you. Has Daddy been telling you how perfect you are, my sweet boy?"

Haymitch grins. "Here, Princess. Take him. My arms are aching," he says, lowering their newborn into her arms.

"Aww. Ooh, you're a little lightweight, my little jelly bean. Yes you are. How much does he weigh?" she asks, looking to Haymitch.

"He's six and a half pounds," he says proudly. "You did really well, sweetheart. It's like you were never pregnant."

"My really flabby stomach and stinging lady parts say differently," she sighs, then looks down as the baby's lips move in a sucking motion. "Ohh, sweet pea, are you hungry?"

Haymitch smiles to himself as he watches her undo her hospital gown and her maternity bra, watching as their son's mouth edges closer to his mother's chest. Effie giggles quietly at the sight of her son, gently edging her nipple into his mouth. The baby takes instantly, sucking eagerly. "The kid's got his priorities straight," Haymitch chuckles.

"He reminds me of you," Effie chuckles softly, looking up at Haymitch. "Thank you. For everything you've done for me, for everything you've put up with, for not throttling me. I know these last few months have been awful for you, especially when my hormones went crazy and you got shouted at for so much. I'm also really sorry for hurting you during the labour and birth... It wasn't really called for."

"Hey, it's fine. Your mind was full of your pain. It's okay, perfectly justified," he says, sitting beside her and kissing her lips.

She kisses him back for a while, loving the feeling of being her usual self again. She breaks away for air and notices their son, still sucking out milk and closing his eyes. "Isn't he just the most perfect child you've ever seen?" she asks, unable to tear her gaze from the tiny baby in her arms.

"He certainly is," Haymitch replies.

"He needs a name, we can't keep calling him peanut or jelly bean for the rest of his life," Effie murmurs. "What have you thought of?"

"I liked Zachary," Haymitch says quietly. "You?"

"Yes. Zachary. It's just like our boy. The perfect blend of Capitol delicacy and District simplicity," she whispers. "Zachary Aaron Abernathy."

"Why Aaron?" he asks, looking at her curiously.

"Your brother's middle name was Aaron," she says. "I want him to have connections to his past, but not so that it'll upset you every time we call on our son."

Haymitch stares at her for a minute, touched. "Well, sweetheart, that's really sweet of you," he says. "And the name has a flow to it."

"I thought so too," she says. "Now, I do believe we need to call and get our child registered."

"I'll get that done. You've got to sate that small thing's appetite," he chuckles.

"I do indeed," she laughs and kisses him. "Just so you're aware, you make gorgeous babies."

"I have a gorgeous partner," he murmurs against her lips. "Very easy to make good-looking kids when you have a good-looking partner."

* * *

 _Three days later_

* * *

"Effie!" a female voice screams.

"In the living room!" Effie calls back, cuddling baby Zachary close to her body. They'd returned home the previous day, and Effie's had to force Haymitch to go to bed because he was insistent on staying awake for the third night straight so that she could sleep. Katniss runs in, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Katniss, what's the matter?"

She drops down beside Effie and chokes out "I just found out that I'm not sick. I'm pregnant."

"What?!" Effie gasps.

"Yeah, that's how I felt too. Effie, I'm terrified, this is the worst thing to happen to me since I lost Prim," Katniss sniffs. "I can't be a mother, I'm barely old enough to look after myself."

"I know, honey," Effie sighs, then edges closer, shifting her own baby in her arms so that she can hug Katniss. "How long have you been pregnant?"

"The test said over ten weeks," Katniss says hoarsely. "Peeta's thrilled. I just... Kids die. I can't watch my own kid grow up, reach twelve, and get brutally murdered."

"That's over, Katniss," Effie says firmly. "Over. Done. Gone. Zach wouldn't exist if it weren't. I cannot make you accept your pregnancy, my girl, but if you want help, I am right here. This baby is very real and it depends on you for survival, just like Primrose. You are not alone in this. You have Peeta, you have Haymitch, you have me. There is no way this will be as difficult for you as it was with Primrose and your mother."

"Thank you," Katniss sighs, then looks guilty. "Sorry for barging in here and yelling, you must be exhausted."

"I'm never too tired for my kids," Effie tells her gently, holding her close.

"Okay. How are you handling life with Haymitch and Junior there?" Katniss asks, studying the baby, whose eyes are trying to focus on Effie.

"Quite well. Zach's an easy child to look after, just keep him clean and fed. Haymitch is a little harder to care for, just keep him well rested, well fed, clean, and entertained. Life's easier when you've got a house of boys," Effie says.

"I really hope I have a son," Katniss sighs. "A small Peeta. I really hope it doesn't get any me in it. I don't need more Katniss."

Effie chuckles softly. "It would be a challenge, my girl, but who better to handle a Katniss than you?" she asks softly, running a gentle hand along Katniss's braid.

"Peeta. Haymitch. You," Katniss says dully, but her lips are twitching and her eyes are sparkling with laughter now.

Effie laughs and hugs her. "That's my girl, stubborn and sweet as they come," she chuckles.

* * *

 _Three months later_

* * *

Haymitch sneaks up on Effie as she stirs the stew in the pot. "Where's our baby?" he asks, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She jumps, then growls at him. "Don't scare me like that!" she snaps, then sighs. "He's in his basket."

Haymitch looks over to see their son's basket by the window, his little face shielded by the hood on the top of the basket, then grins, kissing his wife's neck gently. "Okay. What do you say to a little bit of adult fun time?" he asks softly, nipping at her neck, his hands wandering over her body.

"Not yet, darling, I'm cooking. And I'd rather not get pregnant again so soon. I've only just lost the last bit of my pregnancy weight," she says.

"Okay, okay," he sighs and backs off. "You need any help?"

A loud squelching sound comes from the basket. "I don't... Our son might," she says, her words closely followed by a loud squeaking sound and baby coos.

Haymitch groans. "Oh, fun," he sighs, then goes to get their child out of his basket. "Hey, peanut. You soiled your diaper again, huh?"

The baby gurgles and pulls his father's hair. "You'll have to get him changed, honey, he'll get a rash if you don't," Effie calls over.

"Really?" Haymitch asks sarcastically. "Three months changing his dirty diapers didn't teach me a damned thing, Princess, anything else I missed?"

"Stop being so cheeky with me for a start. Here, you stir the stew, I'll take this one," she says, then puts the spoon in the stew and takes their son from Haymitch. "Come on, jelly bean, let's get you cleaned up. Yes, my little man, we're going to go clean your dirty little bottom."

Haymitch rolls his eyes at the way Effie talks to their baby, stirring the stew. When she returns, she's cuddling their son and grinning. "You're happy. What's going on?" he asks, watching her with their baby.

"Katniss just told me that she and Peeta are having a daughter," she giggles. "Our son's going to get a little playmate!"

"I'm so glad you said _playmate_ and not _girlfriend_ ," Haymitch sighs.

"Don't talk nonsense. My little boy's never having a girlfriend, are you? No! Mommy's little man's _never_ going to go off with another girl. You're gonna stay here and be my baby forever, aren't you, my precious little jelly bean?" Effie coos, playfully kissing their son's cheeks, getting him to smile at her and coo back.

"You're gonna raise my boy to be gay?" Haymitch asks, arching an eyebrow.

"No. Our baby isn't leaving us for anyone. He's a little baby and he always will be. Won't you, sweet pea? Yes, you will! You'll always be Mommy's baby, won't you?" she giggles. "My perfect little Zachy boy's always gonna be my baby."

"You know he's not going to be a baby forever, right? He's gotta grow up," Haymitch says.

"Shush!" Effie hisses. "He's a baby and he's staying this way. Aren't you, my precious little angel? Yes you are! Yes you are! You're always my baby."

Zachary gurgles happily and grabs a fistful of his mother's shirt. "You're crazy, Eff," Haymitch chuckles.

"I know. I'm crazy and you like it," she says.

"Yeah..." Haymitch drawls, then faces their son. "Mommy's a nut job."

"Daddy's very mean to Mommy," Effie replies, then kisses the top of their son's head. "But you aren't. You love your mommy, don't you, sweet pea?"

Zach grins and snuggles up to Effie. "Ah, kid loves his father more," Haymitch teases, knowing it annoys Effie. "Don't you, peanut?"

"He loves the woman who gave him life and wakes up at ridiculous hours to feed him," Effie retorts, smiling now. She knows Zach loves them equally, she even encourages Zach toward his father when he's not there to hear her. "Talking of feeding you, my precious baby boy, do you want food?"

Zach's lips move in a sucking motion and Haymitch sighs. "I'll keep stirring this, then," he says.

"Thank you, honey," Effie says sweetly, kissing his lips. "You're the best husband ever."

Haymitch smiles a bit at her. "You're not the worst woman alive," he replies.

"You still need to work on compliments," she says, blushing prettily and smiling, flattered by his words.

She sits down on the wooden stool she'd bought for feeding their son in case he got hungry while she was cooking, allowing him to latch onto her before she watches her husband, smiling warmly at him. "What?" he asks, looking at her.

"You're an attractive sight. I want to watch you," she says, smiling and shrugging.

He grins at her, then continues stirring the stew. "So what's in this?" he asks.

"It's lamb stew. I've got the plums all ready," she says proudly. "I remember it being a favourite of yours."

Haymitch smiles at her, internally cringing at the memory of what he would have thought of himself if his past self were watching. He'd seen so many men adoring their wives in his time as a mentor for the Games that the idea of ever adoring someone that much repulsed him and he'd promised himself he'd never do that. He'd seen so many Capitol women with their children, indulging their every whim, and indulging everything their husband wants without hesitation, that he'd sworn he'd never go for that kind of woman. He'd wanted someone with strong morals and independence. He'd sworn to himself that he'd never go for a Capitol woman, too. But here he stands now, adoring his extremely Capitol wife, watching her obsessing over him and their child, and he understands. The only reason those Capitol couples were as they were was that they shared the same feelings that he and Effie do. He vaguely comprehends Effie talking to him, and he shakes his head. "Sorry, what?" he asks.

"I was trying to get through to you," she says. "The food's ready to be dished out and the baby's still eating."

"Oh, yeah," he mutters and serves up the stew. "The kids coming?"

"Mm hmm," she replies softly. "They certainly are."

He serves up four bowls of stew, then adds the plums Effie's already prepared and grins at her. "There you go, sweetheart," he says, just as the front door opens.

"I told you, we're asking Effie," Katniss says in a low voice. "You know she's been here for us more often than my mom. It's better this way."

"I still think your mom should be given a chance," Peeta replies quietly. "Effie has Zach, he'll keep her busy, you don't want to exhaust her."

"Effie's my first choice. Mom's a last resort," Katniss hisses.

They walk into the kitchen and find Haymitch looking lost and Effie looking scared. "What's going on?" Effie asks softly.

"Katniss wants you to plan her baby shower," Peeta says, glaring at Katniss. "But since you have Zach, I don't think it's fair to do that to you."

"She's the best at planning, and she's better at being a mom than my mom ever was. And if you don't want to, Effie, it's fine, I get it," Katniss says, glaring right back at Peeta.

Effie studies them, then says "Well, I'd love to plan a baby shower for you, Katniss. But, if you don't mind my asking, why not your mom? Traditionally, it's the grandmother to be who plans the baby shower."

"She won't come back to Twelve," Katniss growls. "She told me to take the baby to her in Four when she's born, but she won't see me before that."

Effie prickles up then, anger flooding her. "Then I'll do it," she hisses.

"Eff?" Haymitch asks softly, stroking her hair. "You okay?"

"No!" Effie growls. "How could _any_ woman just abandon her child?! That is... Oh, she's getting a piece of my mind tomorrow morning!"

"Effie, no," Peeta says gently.

"Effie yes!" Effie snaps. "She may have lost one child, but I'll be damned if she abandons the one still alive!"

Katniss sighs. "Effie, listen to me. I'm not taking the baby to see her," she says. "Why would I do that? My daughter has someone even better to spoil her. She has you. She doesn't need my mom when we've got you."

Haymitch smirks approvingly. "Excuse me?" Effie asks in a tiny voice.

"We have you. She's gone for good. She left when she was needed and you never gave up on us, even when it got horrible. Why would we need her when you're here?" Katniss asks, her lips twitching at the corners. "Peeta and I agreed that you're a far better mother to all of us kids than our moms ever were ages ago. Why do you think we asked you?"

That sets Effie off into a flood of tears. Haymitch grins, then mouths at the kids "Well done."

He's not grinning when Effie pulls him close and almost breaks his ribs.

* * *

 _Four months later_

* * *

"Surprise!" Effie calls, carrying balloons, bags, and Zach into the living room of the Mellark household.

The loud sound of a baby screaming greets her, then Haymitch comes in with more bags on a big pink stroller. Katniss, slumped on the sofa, looks up at Effie and sighs. "Hey. Come on in," she says sleepily.

"Are you okay, dear?" Effie asks, putting the bags down and hugging Katniss close.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. Willow doesn't sleep," Katniss mumbles into Effie's shoulder. "She's slept maybe four hours out of the last seventy two."

"Oh, my poor girl, you must be exhausted!" Effie gasps, cuddling her tightly. "Do you need anything?"

"I need Willow to sleep," Katniss mumbles. "Peeta's upstairs with her."

Haymitch sighs. "Guess not all kids are easy to look after," he says quietly.

"She's mine, I didn't expect her to be easy. I just expected her to want to sleep," Katniss mumbles, clearly falling asleep.

"Well, she will soon, honey," Effie says gently. "She's just getting used to the world."

Zach babbles quietly, then scrambles off his mother's lap to cuddle up to Katniss. "Ka," he mumbles and snuggles up to Katniss as she falls asleep.

Haymitch grins. "Looks like our boy's missed his aunt, huh?" he asks, lifting Effie up and sitting underneath her.

"He probably has," Effie murmurs, kissing Haymitch's jaw.

* * *

 _Five months later_

* * *

"How's Willow sleeping now?" Effie asks, pouring tea out for Haymitch, Katniss, Peeta, and herself.

"Mama?" Zach asks, holding up a small mug.

Effie sees that he's got himself a clean mug and grins, pouring him some tea and adding milk to it for him. "There you go, my precious baby," she chuckles, grinning. "Come here, sit with us."

She holds his mug while Haymitch pulls him onto the sofa, then hands the mug back to Zach, making sure he doesn't spill. "He's Capitol to the core, just like his mother," Haymitch chuckles, ruffling his son's hair.

"What do you want us to get him for his birthday?" Peeta asks.

"Well, we were thinking on this," Effie says as she hands out the drinks. "We don't really need any more toys or clothes, it's all so expensive and he has so much. We saw a nice video of what someone did for their child and it seemed incredible. If you could write letters to him for when he turns eighteen, that would be wonderful. We'll put them in a time capsule, so that he'll have things from everyone he has now, in seventeen years."

"Effie's idea to follow on that story," Haymitch says. "I was just gonna ask if we could get him a trampoline."

"He's a year old, stop trying to kill him," Effie chuckles. "He can have a trampoline when he can take more than three steps without falling over."

"Why do you want to get him a trampoline?" Peeta asks.

"Because it'll be fun for him," Haymitch says.

"For him or for you?" Katniss jokes.

"Both," Haymitch replies.

"Meaning Haymitch wants a trampoline," Effie laughs. "And just so you know, I will get you a trampoline for your birthday."

"Thanks," Haymitch says, grinning, then he hugs Zach. "That means you and me on a trampoline, kiddo."

"Not a chance," Effie replies. "My baby doesn't go on anything that can hurt him until he's old enough to choose for himself."

"Spoilsport," Haymitch sighs.

"When he's still in one piece, you'll be thanking me," Effie replies.

* * *

 _Three days later_

* * *

Effie carries Zach into the living room on the morning of his first birthday, where his father's waiting with Katniss, Peeta, and Willow. "Here comes the birthday boy!" Effie calls, holding him up. "He's still kind of groggy, but he's awake!"

"Happy birthday, Zach!" the three adults shout, making him smile vaguely.

"Goo!" he yells back, perking up at the sight of his family. Haymitch steps forward to take him from Effie, getting a massive grin from Zach. "Dada!"

"Hey, peanut," Haymitch chuckles happily, taking Zach from Effie.

"Dada," Zach giggles, snuggling up to his father. "Goo."

"Yeah, goo," Haymitch murmurs and hugs his son. "You know what today is?"

"Goo," Zach replies, looking lost.

"Today's your birthday," Haymitch tells him, then blinks as a bright light flashes. "What was that?!"

"That was me taking a picture of you being adorable," Effie giggles. "Look at you! You're so cute!"

She shows him the picture of him holding Zach, talking to him, and smiling at him. "You do love your sneaky pictures, you do," Haymitch chuckles.

"Because those are the most natural ones of you and our child, that's why," she says proudly, smiling at him. "I love seeing my two men being themselves. It'll mean I have something to remind me of being youngish and seeing you two being happy when I get old."

"You're weird," Haymitch laughs, kissing her nose.

"And you love that about me," Effie laughs, before a flash goes off beside them. "Which one of you did that?!"

Katniss points at Peeta, who's got a massive grin on his face. "I had to. You three look natural and happy," he says. "It's perfect."

"And I've got no makeup on!" Effie squeals. "You'd better not post that on any socials, my face must look terrible!"

"You look gorgeous, stop fussing," Haymitch tells her, cupping her cheek. "Besides, you've always looked better without the makeup."

"Oh, you," she giggles, blushing furiously.

"Mama," Zach says, then reaches up and strokes her cheek, smiling.

"What's up, baby?" she asks, petting his short black curls.

Zach squeaks happily, watching her face. "Is Mommy beautiful?" Haymitch asks softly.

Zach nods proudly. "Mama!"

More flashes, and despite her stern look, Effie bursts out laughing at Peeta's antics with the camera. "You'd better send me those, Peeta Mellark," she giggles. "I'll steal that camera if you don't."

"You'll have to steal it," he says.

"Come here!" Effie exclaims playfully and chases him around the living room. "I will get you!"

Haymitch and Katniss sit on the sofa to watch their partners chase each other around. "We married lunatics," Katniss says with amusement.

"We sure did. That's probably why we married them," Haymitch says. "We need a bit of lunacy or we'd never stop being moody."

"Fair point," Katniss agrees. "Still, it's why we love them."

"True," Haymitch mutters, nodding, then grins as he watches Effie pounce on Peeta's back and try to wrestle his camera off him. "Don't kill the boy, Princess!"

"I'll try!" she calls. "Gimme!"

Katniss and Haymitch share a look, burst out laughing, and yell "Manners, Effie!"

The resulting glare just sends them into another round of hysterics.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Well, if you stuck through this monster one-shot, I applaud you. I'm exhausted now, haha. I'm really sorry if any of this is OOC or really awkward to read, I did write most of it at three in the morning, caffeine-free, and really sleepy. Like I said, I will do the Capitol Games story once I've done my most recent *and very much hiatus-ed* chaptered fic. I will write up the first few chapters and post a preview in a one-shot. Hope you enjoyed this monster fic, and in the meantime, let me know what you think, if there's anything you'd like to see, and any notes you may have for me! Until next time, Cat. xoxo**_


	22. A Bubble of Privacy

**_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _A/N: I realised I hadn't actually done my disclaimer for the last few chapters. It took sleeplessness to come up with this, so as a result, any mistakes, please point them out. And I do hope you enjoy this little thing._**

 _ **A Bubble of Privacy**_

 _Haymitch_

I go up onto the roof of the Training centre, looking for my escort. She's vanished from the apartment, but nobody has seen her and the lifts haven't moved since before she disappeared. I find her on a large raindrop shaped thing that has a pretty large entrance and contains a mattress, a lot of pillows, and a thick, furry blanket. She's curled up in it, ignoring the rain, a book in her hand, and rectangular, pink reading glasses perched on her nose. She looks tiny and happy, lost in her own little bubble. I notice that there's a plastic door on the thing, so I go over, open it, shed my waterproof coat, and my shoes, and climb into the thing with her. She looks up at me and blushes. I realise that she's not wearing makeup or a wig, which I kick myself for not noticing before. "Haymitch? Why are you out here?" she asks.

"Looking for you," I say. "Didn't know you had a bubble out here."

"I like to read outside in the rain," she says softly. "Nobody usually comes up, so I thought it safe to not wear my usual fabulous out here. It looks incredible, but it's painful."

"Your usual _fabulous_ , as you put it, is completely hideous," I tell her gently. "You look so much nicer without that stuff all over you."

She blushes more and I reach to touch the soft honey blonde of her curls. "You're sweet," she murmurs. "Nobody's ever told me I'm nicer looking like this."

"Then everyone else is either thicker than an enormous cow pat, or they've never seen you looking like this," I say, touching the soft blonde locks. "You have really nice hair. You put every other woman alive to shame."

She giggles, the sound so soft and delicate that I can't reconcile it with the Effie Trinket I know, who would never be so sweet and fragile. "Haymitch, thank you for this. Would you like to stay for a while? I'd like to wait for the rain to stop before we go back inside," she says.

I nod, because I like being in a small bubble with her, which I never thought I'd enjoy. I wrap my arms around her and feel her cuddle up to me, then she pulls the blanket over my legs. I smile and hold her as she reads, reading over her head. She's reading a really terrifying novel and I can't quite put her and horror into the same area at all, but she's engrossed in it. The sudden realisation that I know nothing about Effie Trinket just smashes over my brain like a broken egg on a bowl. She leans her head on my shoulder as she reads, giving me an excuse to pull her closer to me and hold her tight. She finishes her novel in what seems like no time at all, then looks out of our bubble. "You okay?" I ask.

"Yes, thank you," she says, then curls up to me. "It hasn't stopped raining. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart," I reply, holding her.

"I know, I asked how you are," she says innocently, then grins at me.

"Smooth," I chuckle. "I'm okay. Do you wanna stay in our dry little bubble until the rain stops?"

"Do you?" she asks.

"I will if you will," I reply, wondering how we'll use the toilet.

"Okay," she says, then continues as if she's read my mind, "The toilet thing's not an issue, there's a small potty-type thing over there that has a pipe leading straight to a gutter that takes any waste to the sewers."

"Okay," I say, then smirk at her. "What about washing our hands?"

She shows me some high-tech Capitol handwash gel. "I know it's not ideal, but it destroys all the bad bacteria. Brilliant for when there's no soap in public bathrooms," she says.

I smile, then she reaches under a pillow and brings out a big bag of mango and red chilli crackers that seem nice in a weird way, a few bottles of wine, a box of chocolates, a packet of cookies, and a packet of cakes. "You came prepared," I remark.

"I did indeed. There's a cooler in that part of the mattress, I've got bacon sandwiches in there for our breakfast," she says softly. "And iced coffees, to deal with our hangovers."

"Effie, I think I might end up marrying you," I tell her softly, hugging her close.

"If you want to be stuck with a crazy, nagging old witch, then you're more than welcome to, darling," she giggles, then curls up to me.

"Hey, you're not an old witch," I say. "You only nag me when it's important, and your crazy's really cute. I'd happily marry you."

"Well, if that's you asking, then yes," she replies softly.

"I'll get you a ring tomorrow," I promise quietly. The best bit about this is that I'm not even that drunk. I've definitely had a few, but just enough to keep the tremors at bay. I've got two kids in that arena that may actually survive, if the girl's smart enough to find the boy and keep him alive. I suddenly realise that I just got engaged to my escort. She's meant to be everything I despise and out of nowhere, she's become soft and lovable and I've just asked her to marry me. I kiss the top of her head and eat the crackers with her. Out of nowhere, I give her a hug and murmur "You're perfect."

Her arms wind around me and she whispers "So are you. I know you have trouble with this, and I do not expect to hear it back. I love you."

I press my face into her neck and make sure no bugs can pick it up when I murmur "I love you too," into her skin, then kiss her neck. "Now don't go telling everyone yet, let me get the wedding sorted out first. Then we tell people."

She nods. "Fine with me," she whispers.

We eat and drink companionably, sharing secrets and our life stories. She cries quite a bit at my history, seeing as she's never known that life. I sound like an old man when I say this, but these kids in Twelve, while it's hard, they've got no idea how good they've got it. At least they're not getting whipped for trying to feed their families. Her history is heartbreaking, as her life started out horribly. She was abandoned outside a store on a freezing November night, only an hour old, until the man she grew up knowing as her father found her cardboard box that same night. She'd been almost frozen with cold and the rain, she hadn't had any milk at all, and she'd started to stink of her own waste. He'd taken her to the store and bought her essentials, getting her cleaned, changed, and fed in the disabled bathroom while the store was mostly empty. She'd been raised to hate the Games and everything they stand for, but to hide it well in the Capitol guise. She's a rebel, just like me. It cements my desire to marry her and give her a life that she deserves. I hold her close and kiss her lips. "You're amazing, Eff," I murmur into her ear as we lie down.

* * *

We wake up in each other's hold, her lying on my chest with her arm slung over my stomach and her leg over my knees. I've got my arm around her tiny frame and a hand on her side. I smile at the peaceful expression on her face and know immediately that I could happily wake up to this every day. She curls closer and I hold her tighter, then we hear laughter and cheering. Effie grumbles sleepily, squirming further up the mattress to snuggle next to me, curling around me. I kiss her forehead and let her sleep on, lying back until the bubble starts to swing a little. "Hey! Hayffie!" Portia yells at us.

"Go 'way!" Effie snaps, still half asleep. "We don't people yet!"

I smile. My Effie's not a morning person and she's perfect. "You've got to get up, Trinks, you've got stuff to do!" Portia calls in.

"No!" Effie yells, throwing a pillow in Portia's general direction. "Sleep now, life later!"

I cuddle my Effie and kiss her nose, then shield her from the light so that she can get more sleep. I nudge the lock closed on the door with my toe and smirk, holding my Effie. She's got a point, because life really can wait for us. We've done enough with the world for now. It's time to absorb just being us.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, there we go. Let me know what you thought, if you have prompts, if you have anything you'd like to point out, and if you want to get in touch with me, my Twitter is BlackCatS46. Story news is posted there, so please go check that out. Okay, until next time, Cat. xoxo**_


	23. Funerals and Weddings

**_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 ** _A/N: Credit to my dad for this idea, because without him, there wouldn't be any inspiration here._**

 **Funerals and Weddings**

"Haymitch?" Effie murmurs, sitting up in the dark and resting her arm on his chest to hold herself up so that she can see him. "Are you awake?"

"No," he grumbles. "Go back to sleep."

"You're awake, so no. I was thinking about my funeral... What will you do?" she asks.

"Probably be decaying in my own coffin next to yours," he grumbles.

"But if I die first," she says. "If I die first, what will you do for my funeral?"

"Bury you in a giant wardrobe with all your clothes, shoes, wigs, and your other nonsense," he mutters. "Make you happy, right? And if you don't go back to sleep now, I will do that while you're still breathing."

"Mean," she hisses, then flops onto her back. "In the unlikely event that you die first-"

"Unlikely?" he asks, suddenly a lot more alert. "Princess, you'd better not be dying."

"I will be, because you're planning to bury me alive," she deadpans. "Anyway, in the unlikely event that you die first, I'm going to bury you in a giant bottle."

"Any particular reason why that is?" he asks, turning over and draping his arm over her waist.

"Yes. You're an alcoholic. Don't get all offended, it's true. And if you die before you bury me alive, I will have you buried in a giant glass bottle. When people ask, I can say that you've always been in it, it's just shown up now that you're dead," she tells him, struggling not to laugh. "You see?"

"Yeah, I see that even in death, you're making a laughing stock of me," he chuckles, kissing her cheek.

"I'll do a regular funeral if you like," she says, cuddling him.

"You planning to bump me off?" he asks, kissing her forehead.

"Not until we're married," she jokes. "Killing you now wouldn't get me anything but a dead you."

"Good thing I'm never marrying you then," he says flatly. "I kinda like being alive right now."

"Trust you to always ruin my fun," she sighs, only half joking. "I wouldn't kill you. Why don't you tell me about your plans for my undead burial?"

"Have I upset you, sweetheart?" he asks quietly, petting her.

"No," she lies, cuddling closer. "I just want to hear how I'm going to be murdered. Come on, I told you my plans for your funeral. I'm even letting you be dead first."

He pets her hair lightly. "You're a terrible liar, small stuff. Okay, okay. For you, it'll be a big, sparkly pink wardrobe with pink velvet lining. You'll be dressed in your favourite dress and matching shoes. No wig, your hair's too beautiful to hide. You'll be covered in your favourite flowers, and you'll look just like you're sleeping. You'll have clothes and shoes all around you, you'll have wigs above you in case ghost you wants a Capitol night out. And when people ask why I'm having you buried in a glittery pink wardrobe instead of a coffin, I'll say it's because you never came out of the closet," he chuckles, kissing the top of her head.

"Thanks, just out me to everyone," she giggles. "No wonder I'm never marrying you, you think I'm not attracted to you."

"Well, are you?" he asks jokingly.

"Marrying you or attracted to you?" she teases.

"Attracted. We both know marriage is a no-go," he says.

Effie deflates a little, but recovers quickly enough to laugh. "No, Haymitch, I'm not attracted to you at all. I'm just here and have confessing my love for you every ten minutes for the last three years since we moved in together for the giggles of it all," she says sarcastically, then rolls her eyes at him. "Yes, you idiot, I am attracted to you. Did you think I wasn't? Do you see me out chasing other men or something?"

"Only in my worst nightmares," he tells her. "Maybe I should marry you. Get a ring on your finger so that every other straight or otherwise man and woman knows to stay away."

"I'm not marrying you for you to have a possessive claim on me. Marriage is supposed to be because you want to spend the rest of your life with me, not because you're a caveman," she huffs.

"Actually, marriage was invented as a treaty. One family gives up a male and the other gives a female to marry each other, binding the two families. It was to gain stuff, stop feuds, that sort of stuff, but then religion got hold of it, then it just became the done thing so that people would have kids whose parents were always together. Nowadays, it's basically either a possessive claim or really romantic," he says.

"And you ruined the romance for me again," she sighs. "Look, just go to sleep. I'll just lie here and dream of the wedding I'll never have, okay?"

"You want to get married?" he asks quietly.

"No, now shut up, go back to sleep, and let me dream of marrying you in peace," she retorts, pushing him onto his back and rolling over onto her side, facing away from him.

He gently places his hand on her stomach and rolls her onto her back. "Eff, if you want to get married-" he starts, but he's quickly cut off by her kiss.

"Go. To. Sleep. Haymitch," she whispers, stroking his hair. "You don't want to say anything now that you'll regret when you're awake. Sleep."

She rolls over and shuts her eyes, falling asleep in minutes. Haymitch, however, lies awake to watch her. He smirks a bit, letting his mind wander to what sort of ring she'd want.

* * *

 _ **A/N2: Hey, everyone! Sorry I took so long to update (again). My inspiration's been a bit meh lately, I've had a**_ **lot** _ **of stress over the last few weeks, which will hopefully be over soon. My dad gave me the idea for Hayffie discussing their funerals, so the credit for that is his. The ending just kinda**_ **happened _, so yeah. I am utterly shattered right now, haha._**

 ** _To the Guest who said "Sleep now, life later is my new motto", same. That's my motto, too. Sleep now, life later. Glad you could relate to that. :)_**

 ** _Hope you enjoyed this little ficlet, and as always, if you have prompts, let me know in a review or a PM. Until next time, Cat. xoxo_**


	24. Nap Time

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. ._

 _ **A/N: Hiii! Okay, first off, I have another one shot in progress and will post that as soon as it's finished. There is also an upcoming chaptered story that I will have going alongside Journies in Panem, which I have put on hiatus for now, as my inspiration's been a bit shot out lately.**_

 _ **Second, this was written at two in the morning, and I'm alone in writing this, aside from my rat, who's currently napping.**_

 _ **And third, I feel like death warmed up as I write this, really feeling under the weather, so... My apologies for mistakes, I hope to bring out more, and preferably better written, content as soon as I'm a bit less bleh, and a bit more inspired.**_

 _ **Now I'm done ranting, so on with the story. :) Enjoy!**_

* * *

 _Nap Time_

It's been a long day of working for Effie Trinket by the time she trudges into the penthouse. She's carrying her heels and is just too exhausted to do anything. Her mind is racing, her body aches, and her head feels like it's splitting open with every breath she takes. "Trinks, pass me a bottle!" Haymitch shouts from the sofa.

Effie, just wanting a peaceful evening right now, slowly trudges to their minibar, her legs aching, and grabs a bottle of white liquor, his favourite poison. She trudges over to him and gives him the bottle, then tries to be cheery as she grates out "Here you go, honey."

Her attempt at ignoring her sluggish movements, and her aching body falls flat, which attracts Haymitch's attention to her, more than usual. "Hey, you okay, small thing?" he asks, reaching for her.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replies quietly, backing away. "I just need to get out of this corset, have a nice hot chocolate, and sit down."

She trudges slowly to her room, ready for a rest. She removes her wig first and brushes out her glossy blonde hair, sighing softly at it. She removes her makeup as fast as she can, then gets up from her vanity. She approaches her wardrobe and selects a soft black t-shirt, wanting nothing more than the soothing abyss of darkness to look at, then an oversized black hoodie with an adorable cartoon elephant on it, then some thick, black jogging bottoms. Nobody ever sees her in these normally, as she wants to be perfect at all times, but she's making an exception now. She puts on her fluffy grey bunny slippers, then trudges quietly to the living room to locate an Avox for a hot chocolate. "Trinket, come here," Haymitch says, just loudly enough for her to hear him.

"Yes?" she asks quietly, changing direction and going for the sofa.

Haymitch pulls her down with him, then places a steaming mug of hot chocolate in her small hand. "You look like you need it," he says, then wraps his arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you," she murmurs, then looks at him. "Would you mind if I lean on you?"

He smirks, then replies "It's okay, come here, lean on me."

She does, curling up on the sofa next to him, then sips her hot chocolate. "Thank you," she whispers, resting her head on him.

"It's fine," he replies quietly. "You can put your whole weight on me, sweetheart, it's okay."

"This is my whole weight," she whispers, blushing.

"You're tiny," he chuckles. He drinks his liquor while she drinks her hot chocolate in silence. After she's finished her drink, she puts the empty mug on a coaster on the coffee table, then stretches before curling up again. She rests on him, then yawns a little. "Are you tired, sweetheart?"

"Mm," she hums sleepily. "I'll move in a minute, I just need to get myself together."

He smirks and reaches for the throw he'd brought in for her, then places it over her small form, his arm winding around her. He shifts a bit, making it easy for her to lean on his chest. Her hand lands over his heart, her head nestled just under his collarbone, and within minutes, she's fast asleep. Haymitch just smirks at her and holds her close to him, then whispers "Effie Trinket, you adorable little thing."

Within minutes, he's sound asleep too, clutching Effie to him in an extremely protective way. They stay put that way, and are discovered in exactly that position the next morning, when Cinna, Portia, and Peeta come for their breakfasts. The following teasing, Haymitch quickly decides, is just too annoying to bear. After Portia teasingly asking "Can I plan the Hayffie wedding yet?" Haymitch acts.

"What do you think, Eff? Should we let her plan our wedding?" he asks, looking at Effie.

"I'm not marrying you before we've had our first kiss, you know," Effie replies.

Haymitch smirks for a split second, then presses a kiss to her lips, smirking at the sound of four people dropping their cutlery. Effie sits still, totally stunned, for about thirty seconds, before kissing him back with a passion that is _definitely_ not very proper for breakfast with three other people. Haymitch breaks away for air first, then Cinna asks "So is Portia planning the wedding or what?"

Effie just sits and gapes at Haymitch in the most unladylike way, much to his amusement. He lifts his hand and closes her mouth for her. "Shut your mouth, you'll catch flies. Cinna just asked you a question," he chuckles. "Very bad manners to ignore a question."

Effie inhales, then fixes him with a stare that sends chills down his spine before she lets a slow, terrifying smile spread across her face, and sweetly says "You are a dead man, Haymitch Abernathy."

Haymitch gulps, the colour draining from his face as his eyes drifting from her face to the sharp nails she's tapping against her breakfast knife.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, like I said, early hours for me, very odd one shot. I'm so sorry if this made no sense. Please let me know what you thought of it, if you have prompts, if you have questions, whatever takes your fancy. I'm sorry about the lack of content lately, I am trying. Lots of love and good vibes coming to you all. Cat xoxo**_


	25. Halloween in Twelve

_**A/N: Well, hello there! Halloween is right around the corner, and I am so excited! I hope you're all having fun planning your spooky night, or if you don't celebrate, I hope you're enjoying your life in general. Okay, just a few things to mention: First, if you're a fan of my series Journeys in Panem, the next chapter should be up sometime this week.**_

 _ **Second: I have a new story up on Archive Of Our Own, called Once a Team, Always a Team. I will put it up here, a bit more toned down for the site's use, if there's request for it, but if not, it's up there. My username's the same on Archive, so it won't be that hard to find. It's M at the minute, but as usual, that is subject to change. It's updated on Tuesday evenings, so if you're interested in that, go check it out. As always with me, it's Hayffie. ;)**_

 _ **Third: This chapter is a little steamy, and I know I suck at that, but my last one shot with anything of the sort lacked a lot, and since it was a prompt, I wanted to do it justice. So with that said, to the Guest who prompted it in a review so long ago, here it is, and I hope it's a lot better than the last one.**_

 _ **Fourth and final: After Journeys in Panem 2 is over, I will be starting two new chaptered stories, a Capitol Hunger Games that was also prompted by a Guest, and the third and final "book" in my Journeys in Panem series, focusing on Phoenix and Johanna's lives together, with snippets of Hayffie when they decide to make appearances.**_

 _ **All that annoying promotional stuff done, I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 **Halloween in Twelve**

The sound of _This Is Halloween_ is blaring through the house for the thirty first day in a row, and now Haymitch has reached his limit. He stomps downstairs and simply _gapes_ at the amount of black and orange tinsel, balloons, _cakes_ , and streamers in his living room. There are fake cobwebs with spiders in them _everywhere_ , his furniture looks _filthier_ than before, and his windows look like someone was murdered against them. There are skull shaped fairy lights twinkling everywhere, and a _massive_ bowl of various Capitol candies. He takes it all in, then bellows "Trinket!"

Effie zooms into the living room, looking extremely proud of herself. "Haymitch, you're awake! Happy Halloween!" she squeals, then flings black glitter all over him.

"Take a guess at who's vacuuming," he snarls, then glares around the room. "What _is_ all of this?"

"Party decorations!" Effie squeals. "I _did_ ask you, and you said _yes_!"

"How drunk was I?" he asks.

"That doesn't matter, you said I could have a Halloween party," she insists.

"So I was blackout drunk," he sighs. "Fine. You have your party. What are you going to dress as?"

"I am going to be a witch," she tells him, beaming. "I've been planning my outfit for _months_."

He shakes his head fondly. "Okay, then," he sighs. "You should stop asking me for things when I'm drunk, sweetheart."

She loops her arms around his neck and kisses him. "But how else am I meant to get you to say yes?" she asks cheekily, an adorable grin on her face.

He kisses her back, holding her waist. "Well, this would work," he teases, kissing her some more.

She nudges at his lips with her tongue, pressing closer to him. He grants her access, battling her for control and sliding his hands around to the small of her back, pulling her tightly against him. She smiles, fighting to keep her control as her own hands slide down his front to rest on his chest. He slides his hands further down to grope her, kissing her harder, lust clouding his brain. Neither of them notice their front door opening, or the clunking of Peeta's prostethic leg in the hall. They only hear his disgusted exclamation of "Really?! Every time you're left alone together?! Aren't you too old to do that?!"

The couple break apart, Haymitch flushing with annoyance, and Effie embarrassed at being caught. "Aren't you too old to be barging in on us like a toddler?" Haymitch retorts, still groping at Effie.

Effie hisses "Manners!" at Haymitch, then smiles awkwardly at Peeta. "I'm sorry, honey, we weren't expecting you here yet. Wait a minute, did you just call us _old_?!"

"He just caught us making out like teenagers, and you're worried about him saying that we're old?" Haymitch asks, lifting an eyebrow at her priorities.

"Um, yes!" Effie exclaims, her eyes like saucers. "I will have you know, Peeta Mellark, that we are still in our prime! After all, we will soon have a little child of our own to take trick or treating, and _that_ doesn't happen when you're too old to have sex!"

Haymitch chuckles quietly, having known for about a week now, but Peeta is astounded. He gapes at her for a minute, then chokes "You... You're...?"

"Mm hmm," Effie giggles. "I hope you're excited to be a big brother."

"How did you convince Haymitch?!" Peeta demands.

"She didn't," Haymitch chuckles. "We didn't plan it, she skipped a couple periods, went missing for about seven hours, then came home and told me while we were making up after the fight about her vanishing."

"And you didn't choke her out?" Peeta asks.

"I'm breathing, aren't I?" Effie giggles. "He spent about two hours sat in the goose pen. He only left when I told him that I'd made stew."

"No traumatic news is worth missing that," Haymitch chuckles.

"How did you manage to come around to it?" Peeta asks.

"It makes Effie happy," Haymitch says. "You know the saying. Happy wife, happy life."

"Don't talk daft, you think I'm adorable when I'm happy," Effie scoffs, then kisses his lips gently. "I'm going to go make the shots."

"You'd better not be boozing in there, sweetheart," Haymitch growls, clutching her.

"I don't drink anymore, as well you know," Effie reminds him, rolling her eyes, a habit she's picked up from him. She breaks out of his grasp and strolls happily to the kitchen.

"How do you convince Katniss, then?" Peeta asks, following Effie.

"Why, Peeta, do you want children?" she asks, getting the alcohol out.

"Well, obviously not right now, we're still only twenty one, but _yeah_ , someday," he tells her wistfully. "The thing is, Katniss is dead against it."

"She'll take time, dear. Mentalities are slow to change, and she's healing. It takes a long time to do both things. I'm sure she'll agree to it someday soon, she's come around to a lot in the last four years," Effie says soothingly, measuring out shots with precision.

"Could you have a chat with her?" Peeta asks eagerly. "I mean, you were adamant that you never wanted children."

"Then you and Katniss came on board," she chuckles. "I will talk to her about children if she asks me, but I will not pressure her to talk to me. You are like my son, but she is like my daughter. I won't upset her by discussing her having babies of her own before she's ready."

"Okay," Peeta sighs as Haymitch strolls in, brushing by Effie on his way to the stove to boil some water, gently patting her bottom as he passes her.

Effie doesn't venture a comment, but Haymitch asks "Do either of you want some tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please," Effie says with a grateful sigh to her voice. She passes him one of her shots, then hopefully asks "Taste test?"

"The day I say no to that, I want you to take my knife and shove it into my throat," he chuckles, then gulps the shot in one go. "Perfect, as usual. Loving the slight syrup taste there."

"Good, I'm glad you like it," she coos, then holds a shot glass out to Peeta. "Peeta?"

"It looks like blood," he comments, eyeing it warily.

"It's supposed to. It tastes better though, I promise," she says, her eyes sparkling.

Peeta takes the glass and tips the scarlet liquid into his throat, then swallows, his eyes widening at the taste. "Wow. That's really sweet," he says, studying it. "Definitely tastes better than blood."

"I know," Effie chuckles. "So, what's your costume for tonight's party?"

"Katniss wanted to dress as Countess Elizabeth Bathory, and I'm going to get my costume to dress as Count Dracula from the dry cleaner's later," he says. "What about you two?"

Haymitch smirks and says "I'm going to be a homicidal maniac."

"What does that look like?" Peeta asks.

"Everyone else," Haymitch chuckles darkly, making two mugs of coffee, and Peeta's favourite tea.

"You have a dark sense of humour, my love," Effie hums. "I'm going to dress as a witch."

Peeta smiles a bit. "Well, just don't turn anyone into a frog," he jokes.

"Oh, trust me, I won't," she laughs. "If I could do that, Haymitch would have been a frog long before now."

"Love you too, sweetheart," Haymitch deadpans, placing her coffee next to her tray of shots.

"Why must you always say the sweetest things so sarcastically?" she sighs, picking up her mug and sipping the hot liquid with relish. "Mm..."

"I wouldn't be me if I wasn't sarcastic," Haymitch says.

"Go get into your costume," Effie chuckles, giving him a gentle kiss.

"Okay, boss," Haymitch grumbles, kissing her back. "No doing shots, you. My kid doesn't get alcohol until she's twenty one."

"It could be a boy," Effie reminds him.

Peeta waits until Haymitch has left before he asks "Are you going to find out the sex?"

"Yes," she replies happily, her hand fluttering to her stomach. "I need to get baby supplies and sort out his or her bedroom. Haymitch and I have a bet, too. He thinks we're having a girl, and I think it's a boy. The bet is that he gets to name it if it's a girl with no input from me, and I get to name it if it's a boy. We've promised to pick names that aren't stupid, of course, because our baby's growing up with it."

"Okay, that's unusual, but hey, your kid," Peeta jokes. After another twenty minutes, he sighs and says "I've gotta go collect my costume. I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight," Effie chirps, hugging him before he leaves.

* * *

The party is in full swing, and Haymitch is staring at Effie, watching the way she moves and admiring how her dress looks on her. It's all black at the top, tight until it reaches her hips, then it flares out and down to her ankles in many layers of emerald green, with a thin black lace cobweb pattern over the top of the skirt. He's wearing a black suit and a green shirt that matches Effie's skirt. Katniss appears next to Haymitch, wearing a dark red dress and fake blood smeared on her arms and neck, her hair up in an elegant style. "What's with you lately?" she asks. "You're more all over Effie than usual."

"She's more all over me," he corrects. "And that's her thing to tell you. If you wanna know, go chat to her."

Katniss rolls her eyes, then says "Peeta wants kids."

"Yeah, I know," Haymitch replies. "What about it?"

"I don't know whether or not I'm ready for it yet," she sighs. "I mean, it's not like it used to be, and I know that. But I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Yeah," Haymitch sighs heavily, knowing that feeling all too well. "I know. Effie's all eager for it too, just like the boy. They're built for this sorta thing, and they're all too eager for it. We've just gotta roll with it, kid. You and the boy aren't gonna be young forever."

"Neither are you and Effie," Katniss points out.

"Yeah, well, we're just playing the waiting game," Haymitch tells her. "You've gotta relax a bit with him. He's been in love with you for years, it's natural that now he's got a ring on your finger, he's gonna think about the future you two have. You need to work together on this, that's all."

"Haymitch, if Effie told you that she was pregnant, would you be happy?" Katniss asks.

"I'd sit in the goose pen," he says. "For hours on end. That's where I go when she tells me stuff that scares me. I wait it out with the geese, and she coaxes me out with food."

"Typical," Katniss chuckles. "What would she do?"

"Be happy about it," Haymitch chuckles. "She's weird like that."

"What would you say if I told you that I'm pregnant?" Katniss asks tentatively.

"I'd ask if you're pulling my leg," he replies, then studies her face. He sighs, then asks "You're not saying this hypothetically, are you?"

"No," Katniss replies sadly. "I'm not, and I don't want to tell Peeta. I'm not ready for this."

"You're best off talking to Effie, kid," Haymitch sighs regretfully. "She's a woman, she'll understand the way you feel in a way I can't."

Katniss nods, and Haymitch pats her back. "Good luck, kid," he says.

"Thanks," Katniss mutters, and Haymitch watches her approaching Effie.

Effie's in the middle of a conversation when Katniss taps her shoulder. "Katniss, I am in the middle of a conversation," Effie chides gently.

"It's okay, Effie," the woman coos. "It's obvious that she's distressed and needs you. Go with her, I've really taken a monopoly on your time."

Effie hugs her friend, then takes Katniss to the kitchen. "What is it, darling?" she asks, studying the younger woman.

"Effie, I'm pregnant," Katniss blurts out, tears welling in her eyes. "I can't tell Peeta yet, and I asked Haymitch, and he told me to talk to you. What do I do, Effie? I'm not ready to be a mom!"

"First of all, darling, _breathe_ ," Effie tells her, gently taking Katniss's hands in her own and taking in a deep breath herself. "Come on, with me. Deep breaths."

Katniss takes in a deep breath and exhales in time with Effie. Once she's calmed down, she asks "How do you think Peeta will take it?"

"Well, I think he'll be thrilled," Effie tells her gently. "He'll be a bit shocked, of course, but he wants a baby with you. He'll be delighted once the surprise fades."

"What would Haymitch do if you were pregnant?" Katniss asks, shaking.

"Well, when I told him, he sat alone in the goose pen for _hours_. I had to go to the pen and offer him stew before he left. He had three bowls of stew and a glass of whiskey before he actually said a word, but when he finally did, he told me that he was surprised that we were still fertile at all, after everything, but he was happy," Effie tells her, smiling fondly at the memory. "He's more excited than I am now, which is quite the feat."

"Wait, you're saying this as if it's actually happened," Katniss says.

"It did," Effie chuckles. "Peeta was surprised too. But think of it this way, your baby has someone his or her own age to grow up with. Now, tell me, how far along are you?"

"I don't know, not very," Katniss replies, staring at her former escort's stomach. "I didn't think you even knew what sex is, let alone having enough of it to get pregnant."

"Well, maybe it's better that way," Effie chuckles. "Listen, you need to find out how far along you are. It'll give you time to prepare. As for telling Peeta, I'd recommend you tell him here, where we can get to you if you need us."

Katniss nods, then spontaneously hugs Effie, clinging to her. "I'm not ready to be a mom," the young woman whispers.

"Nobody ever is, darling," Effie whispers, hugging her close. "But you'll have Peeta, and you'll have Haymitch, and you'll have me. You're not alone any more."

Katniss clings tighter to Effie, then whispers "Thanks, Mom."

The two women freeze as Katniss's words hit them, then Effie presses a light kiss to Katniss's head. "Anything for you, dear," Effie whispers.

* * *

It's icy cold at the end of October in District Twelve, and with two three months old babies constantly trying to outdo each other's screams from opposite sides of the road, nobody in the Victors' Village is having any fun. "Zach, please," Effie pleads, trying not to think about how cold it is. "Willow is _just_ across the road. You will see her tonight."

A knock sounds at the door, followed by screams from another baby. Haymitch sighs "Those kids have finally caved."

The door opens and Peeta brings in his screaming daughter. "See, Willow? Zach's here, he hasn't vanished," the young man sighs.

Both babies immediately shut up when placed next to each other. "Oh, finally," Effie sighs in relief. "I hope this isn't going to stay a thing when they get bigger."

"I'll duct tape our boy if this is a regular thing," Haymitch groans. "Are we really taking him trick or treating this young, Eff?"

" _Yes_ ," Effie insists. "It's his first Halloween, let him have his baby fun."

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "We're never having more, Effie," he warns.

"You said we were never having _one_ ," Effie chuckles. "And if Zach wants a sibling, you'll have me pregnant again before the request is even completely out of his mouth. You're wrapped around his little finger."

Haymitch huffs, but he knows she's right. He's too soft where Zach's concerned. He blames the eyes.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, and we're done. I hope this was somewhat better than the last one I did, and a little more structured. If you have any prompts, let me know, I'm eager for more one shot material. As I said, the Capitol Games will be coming soon, I've already got past the reaping, so just the arena to develop and the Games to be determined. I'll post a teaser in this series of one shots soon. Until next time. Cat xxx**_


	26. Surprise!

**_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _Prompt: *Guest*_ _Can you please do a pregnancy one? Like when Effie tells haymitch that she is pregnant_

 ** _Surprise!_**

According to Plutarch, this weird behaviour has been going on for about a week. Effie's been skittish for about as long as Haymitch has been out of Detox, and she's starting to annoy everyone with it. Haymitch walks into her compartment, and sheds his shirt before he notices that Effie's still staring into the mirror. What's odd about that? She's always staring into a mirror, whether it was to admire herself, or to pick out flaws in her natural state. Well, the odd bit is that she hasn't even noticed Haymitch yet. Annoyed by her obsession with her own looks, he throws his shirt at her head. She jumps a mile and lets out an ear-piercing squeal. "Chill out, Princess, it's only me," Haymitch scoffs. "Coin's driven a hole in my head with her monotone voice."

"Oh," she breathes, shaking violently. "I'm sorry. Do you need to lie down?"

He rolls his eyes, then steps closer to her, the compartment too small to walk in. He wraps his arms around her slim frame, then presses a kiss to the top of her head. "Okay, Eff, what's up?" he asks.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she fires back, as if that's supposed to answer him.

"What I asked. Why are you so skittish lately, Princess? You're acting like a terrified rabbit in hunting season," he tells her, dropping a hand from her ribs to her stomach, hoping to soothe her by rubbing her stomach like he usually does. He doesn't expect her to pull his hand away, nor the fearful expression on her face. "Okay, what's up with you?"

She starts to cry, her knees giving way. "Haymitch, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean this to happen. I took everything I could to prevent it," she sobs.

"What are you on about now, sweetheart?" he sighs, totally lost.

"I asked for them to stop it, but they won't," she cries, leaning entirely on him. "It's apparently unnecessary... They don't understand that neither of us want it..."

"Effie, what?" Haymitch asks. "What don't we want?"

"I'm pregnant!" she wails. "I'm pregnant, and they won't let me have an abortion! I took _every_ precaution possible, and it happened, and now I can't end it!"

He decides to go into shock about that revelation when she's calmed down, so he turns her around and gives her a kiss, then pets her gently as he breaks away. "Calm down, sweetheart. It's okay," he whispers.

"It's _not_ okay!" she wails. "I can't even keep a _plant_ alive, how could I keep an eight weeks old baby alive in my womb?! I'm a _horrible_ parent! Kids fear me, and this one will be no different! I'm the Grim Reaper!"

"Effie, stop. This baby won't fear you," Haymitch whispers. "You're its mom, how could he or she fear you? To this baby, you're the whole world. You're not the Grim Reaper to this baby. You're everything it knows. It loves you as much as I do."

"But what about when it _knows_ what I did to kids? It will hate me and fear that I'll send it to its death!" she wails, clutching her stomach. "I can't cope with knowing that my own baby will despise me, Haymitch!"

He cuddles her close. "Look, Princess, by the time Peanut finds out, she will have known you for all of her life as Mommy, the woman who loves her, protects her, adores her, comforts her, feeds her, waters her, who raised her. She won't hate you. She'll still love you because you're her mommy," he tells her, petting her.

"But the baby will know they're the daughter of a killer, Haymitch," Effie sobs. "This baby will know that its mommy killed little children!"

"Effie, stop. You know you didn't do it willingly. The baby will know that, too. You're her mom. She'll know you didn't want to hurt children, and that you were forced to do it. She'll think you're strong. Don't you go being afraid now," he says.

"You know that the baby may be a boy, right?" she whispers.

"Yeah, well, until I know, it's a she," he says. "I couldn't cope with another me, so I need a mini Effie. Anyway, you're going to know exactly what this little baby will think as soon as you see her looking up at you. She's going to love her mommy, I promise. No matter your past, she'll still see you as Mommy."

Effie nods and cuddles up to him. "I hope you're right," she murmurs.

"Princess, I'm always right," Haymitch chuckles. "It's why you love me."

She laughs weakly. "I love you, all right," she whispers. "I just hope our baby survives."

"She will," Haymitch promises. He's sure of that, because he would keep her and their baby alive or die trying.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, there we go. Let me know what you thought, if you have prompts, if you have anything you'd like to point out, and if you want to get in touch with me, my Twitter is BlackCatS46. Story news is posted there, so please go check that out. Okay, until next time, Cat. xoxo**_


	27. Peanut Maní

**_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _Gift for a reader, whom I've been conversing with on Twitter. Sissi, this is for you. There is a Spanish translation after the English part._

 _ **Peanut**_

"Haymitch, I am going to _kill_ you! You're going to die a thousand painful deaths for this!" Effie screams.

"I'm right here, small stuff," Haymitch groans. "You're going to deafen me if you keep screaming like that."

"I am in _pain_ , and it's because of _you_!" Effie screeches, squirming around on the bed. "I'm _never_ having sex with you again! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

"I get it, you hate me," Haymitch sighs, a hint of a smirk on his face now. "Sing a new tune, will you?"

"I'm going to kill you!" she screams, squirming uncomfortably, then she turns her glare on the midwife. "When is this child making an appearance?!"

"In about ten minutes," the midwife tells her, her voice soothing.

"Ten minutes?! Ten?! I'm about to rip this baby out of me!" Effie wails. "I hate this, why did I accept getting pregnant so easily?! Haymitch, I hate you, you're going to die at the hands of a half-dead woman, and you are going to _like it_!"

Haymitch bursts out laughing at that, earning a wounded glare from Effie, and a disapproving look from the midwife. "That's insensitive," the midwife tells him coldly.

"She's funny," Haymitch chuckles.

"I am _not_ funny! This is _your_ spawn I'm about to push out here!" Effie hollers, wriggling. "How long has it been?"

"About a minute," the midwife sighs, well used to first time mothers.

"Oh, God! Get this baby out now, or so help me!" Effie roars, then screams. "When do I push?!"

"Give it another minute or two, you don't want to tear," the midwife says, clearly wanting to soothe her. "Mr Abernathy, why don't you try easing her pain?"

"He's the reason I'm suffering to start with!" Effie screams.

The next two minutes pass with Effie screaming louder hate toward Haymitch before the midwife eventually says "Okay, now you can push."

"Thank you!" Effie shrieks. It takes all of fifteen minutes before little baby Abernathy is finally out of her mother, and wailing on the duvet. "Is my baby okay?"

"She's _perfect_ ," the midwife tells her, taking the baby for a quick examination. Once the baby's been declared perfectly healthy and responsive, the midwife puts her in her first diaper, and wraps her in a blanket, then places her in her mother's arms. "Congratulations."

Effie gasps, staring at her baby girl. "Oh, my... Haymitch, look," Effie breathes, staring at her baby while the midwife clears up and checks Effie over. "Have you ever seen anything more precious?"

"No," Haymitch murmurs back, lost to their newborn daughter, watching her massive blue eyes, so much like Effie's. "Well done, Effie. You finally made something more beautiful than you."

Effie sniffs, staring at her baby. "She's the most perfect being to ever exist," Effie whispers, enchanted by their baby. Once the midwife has occupied herself with sorting out legal things with the registrar, Effie tears her gaze from the baby. "Would you like to hold her, Haymitch?"

"I'll drop her," Haymitch says, terror flooding him.

"You won't, I promise," Effie whispers, and hands their little girl over, clearly fighting against her instincts. "Here, Peanut, meet Daddy."

Haymitch takes the newborn, and all fears of dropping her flies out of the window. "Hello, Peanut," he whispers, staring down at the tiny miracle in his arms. "Welcome to the world."

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, there we go. Let me know what you thought, if you have prompts, if you have anything you'd like to point out, and if you want to get in touch with me, my Twitter is BlackCatS46. Story news is posted there, so please go check that out. Okay, until next time, Cat. xoxo**_

* * *

 ** _Español_**

 _Regalo para un lector con el que he estado conversando en Twitter. Sissi, esto es para ti._

 _ **Man**_ ** _í_**

"¡Haymitch, te voy a _matar_! ¡Vas a morir mil muertes dolorosas por esto!" Effie grita.

"Estoy aquí, cosa pequeñas", gruñe Haymitch. "Vas a ensordecerme si sigues gritando así".

"¡Estoy sufriendo, y es por tu culpa!" Effie chilla, retorciéndose en la cama. "¡Nunca volveré a tener sexo contigo! ¡Te odio, te odio, te odio, te odio, te odio!"

"Lo entiendo, me odias", suspiró Haymitch, con una leve sonrisa en su rostro.

"¡Voy a matarte!" ella grita, y se retuerce incómoda, luego gira su mirada hacia la partera. "¿Cuándo está haciendo su aparición este niño?"

"En unos diez minutos", le dice la partera, su voz suave.

"¿¡Diez minutos! ¡Diez! ¡Estoy apunto de arrancarme este bebé fuera!" Effie llora. "Odio esto, ¿por qué acepté quedar embarazada tan fácilmente? ¡Haymitch, te odio, vas a morir a manos de una mujer medio muerta, y te va a gustar!"

Haymitch se echa a reír al oír eso, lo que le provoca una mirada herida a Effie y una mirada de desaprobación de la partera. "Eso es insensible", le dice fríamente la partera.

"Ella graciosa", Haymitch se ríe.

"¡ _No_ soy gracioso! ¡Este es _tu_ engendro que estoy por empujar fuera aquí!" Effie grita, retorciéndose. "¿Cuánto tiempo ha pasado?"

"Alrededor de un minuto", suspira la comadrona, bien acostumbrada a madres primerizas.

"¡Oh, Dios! ¡Saca a este bebé ahora, o asi que ayúdame!" Effie ruge, luego grita. "¿Cuándo empujo?"

"Dale otro minuto o dos, no quieres rasgarte", dice la partera, claramente queriendo calmarla. "Sr. Abernathy, ¿por qué no intenta aliviar su dolor?"

"¡Él la razón por la que estoy sufriendo para empezar!" Effie grita.

Los siguientes dos minutos pasan con Effie gritando un odio más fuerte hacia Haymitch antes de que la partera finalmente diga "Está bien, ahora puedes empujar".

"¡Gracias!" Effie grita. Se necesitan quince minutos para que el pequeño bebé Abernathy finalmente salga de su madre y llore sobre el edredón. "¿Está bien mi bebé?"

"Ella es _perfecta_ ", le dice la partera, tomando al bebé para un examen rápido. Una vez que el bebé ha sido declarado sano y receptivo, la partera la coloca en su primer pañal, la envuelve en una manta y luego la coloca en los brazos de su madre. "Felicitaciones."

Effie jadea, mirando a ella bebé. "Oh, mi ... Haymitch, mira", respira Effie, mirando a su bebé mientras la partera se aclara y revisa a Effie. "¿Alguna vez has visto algo más precioso?"

"No", murmura Haymitch, perdido ante su hija recién nacida, mirando ella enormes ojos azules, tan parecidos a los de Effie. "Bien hecho, Effie. Finalmente hiciste algo más hermoso que tú".

Effie huele, mirando a su bebé. "Ella es el ser más perfecto que existe jamás", susurra Effie, encantada con su bebé. Una vez que la partera se ocupó de resolver asuntos legales con el registrador, Effie le arranca la mirada del bebé. "¿Te gustaría abrazarla, Haymitch?"

"Voy a caer ella soltar", dice Haymitch, el terror lo inunda.

"No lo harás, lo prometo" susurra Effie, y le da a su pequeña, claramente luchando contra sus instintos. "Aquí, Maní, conoce a Papá".

Haymitch se lleva al recién nacido, y todos los temores de arrojar ella moscas por la ventana. "Hola, Maní" susurra, mirando el pequeño milagro en sus brazos. "Bienvenido al mundo."

* * *

 ** _A / N 2: Bien, ahí vamos. Déjame saber lo que piensas, si tienes indicaciones, si tienes algo que quieras destacar, y si quieres ponerte en contacto conmigo, mi Twitter es BlackCatS46. Las noticias de la historia se publican allí, así que por favor revisa eso. De acuerdo, hasta la próxima vez, Cat. xoxo_**


	28. Cravings

**_Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 _Prompt: *Guest*_ _Please do one when Effie has a pregnancy craving in the middle of the night and haymitch has to go out to get her food_

 ** _Cravings_**

"Haymitch?" A small shake of his shoulder. "Are you awake? Haymitch?"

"I'm awake," Haymitch mumbles. "What's up?"

"Do we have any salted caramel truffles left?" Effie asks quietly.

"No, you ate the last box earlier," Haymitch mumbles.

"But Baby wants salted caramel truffles," she whines.

"Baby's going to have to wait until morning, Eff. It's late," Haymitch sighs.

"Please?" she begs. "I'll do anything for you... Please go get us some truffles, and I promise not to bother you in the middle of the night again. Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a bottle of whiskey on top?"

Haymitch groans and gets out of bed, picking up a pair of jeans. "I don't know why I'm doing this, small stuff. I know that you'll be bugging me again tomorrow night for something else," he mutters.

"I won't, I promise," she whispers, smiling at him. "You're the best husband _ever_ , never let me tell you otherwise."

"Yeah, yeah, you'll be mad at me tomorrow, you adorable little thing," he chuckles as he pulls on his shirt.

"Probably, but you get up in the night for me. You're the best husband ever," she says, then rubs her stomach. "Your baby agrees with me. It's kicking."

He chuckles, then kisses Effie's lips. "You stay there and keep the bed warm," he says. "I'll be back in about twenty minutes. As for you, tiny one, be nice to Mommy."

He presses a kiss to Effie's stomach before he leaves her in their bed, grabbing his jacket and sliding on his shoes on his way out. He grabs his keys and wallet, ready to go and buy her a month's supply of truffles. He really hates getting out of bed in the middle of the night.

* * *

He returns home to find Effie in their bed, one mug of tea on his bedside table, and a hot water bottle under the duvet where he usually sleeps. She has a mug of tea in one hand, and a book balanced on her stomach. The book jolts every so often, and Haymitch smiles, producing a box of truffles. "Here you go, small stuff," he says. "One box of salted caramel truffles."

She squeals, putting her tea and her book aside, then she wriggles off the bed and takes the box, giving him a kiss. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you! You're the very best! If we weren't already married, I'd marry you right now! Thank you!"

"Yeah, it's fine," he sighs. "Get back in bed, sweetheart, it's cold, and I'm tired. You eat your truffles, then go back to sleep."

"I brought tea to warm you up," she tells him. "It's green and lemon. Your favourite."

He smiles again, stroking her hair. "Thanks, Princess," he whispers into her ear. He gets undressed, then climbs back under the duvet, relishing the warmth. He picks up his tea, drinking it slowly, warming his hands on the hot ceramic mug, and watching Effie happily devour her truffles. She offers him the box periodically, and he denies it every time. The truffles are _her_ craving, and he's sick of them. He finishes his tea long before she finishes her truffles. He gives her a kiss on the cheek, then whispers "Don't make yourself sick, okay?"

"Okay," she whispers, then gives him a very chocolate-y kiss on the lips. "Goodnight, honey."

"Goodnight, small thing," he chuckles, then rubs her stomach. "Goodnight to you too, even smaller thing."

He lies down and lets himself fall back into a peaceful sleep. He's awoken by Effie poking him in the back. "Haymitch?"

"What?" he grumbles.

"Will you make us some bacon sandwiches?" Effie asks quietly.

Haymitch buries his face in the pillow and groans "Fine... When?"

"In the morning," Effie whispers.

Haymitch looks at the clock and- "Effie, it's four in the morning!" he groans.

"Yes... How about at seven?" she asks hopefully.

"Fine, just let me sleep!" he huffs.

She giggles and snuggles up behind him. "I love you," she whispers, then kisses his spine. "We both do."

He smiles, then turns over to give her a hug. "You're a mushy little thing," he mumbles sleepily. "Love you too."

She snuggles into his embrace and falls asleep with her ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He has no trouble falling asleep when he has her in his arms. She still manages to wake him at seven for her sandwiches.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, there we go. Let me know what you thought, if you have prompts, if you have anything you'd like to point out, and if you want to get in touch with me, my Twitter is BlackCatS46. Story news is posted there, so please go check that out. Okay, until next time, Cat. xoxo**_


	29. Morning Sickness

_**A/N: The prompt is "**_ Can you do one when Effie has morning sickness and haymitch is trying to make her feel better? **" from a guest reader. I hope this is satisfactory.**

 _ **I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 **Morning Sickness**

The bed shakes as Effie bolts out of it, waking Haymitch up. He watches her run to the bathroom, then sighs quietly. Ever since she reached the eighth week of pregnancy, she's been getting up at odd hours to be sick. Why the experts all call it morning sickness, Haymitch will never know, because when it comes to Effie, it's _all night_ sickness. He hears her heave, and it's quickly followed by the sounds of her throwing up, and vomit in the toilet. He gets up, hating for her to suffer on her own. He grabs a hair tie and runs to the bathroom, letting himself in. He takes her hair out of her hand and ties it behind her head, giving her a kiss on the nape of her neck. "Haymitch," she gasps, then vomits again. Haymitch rubs her back until she's stopped vomiting for a moment. "Honey, go back to bed. This isn't something you need to see."

"You're my wife, Princess. I vowed to stick with you in sickness and in health, so that's what I'm doing," he says, rubbing her back. "Besides, it's partially my fault that you're being sick in the first place."

"I'm not holding you responsible until I'm giving birth and in agony," she giggles. Her giggles turn into a groan as she vomits again. Haymitch rubs her back again, feeling horrible for her. "Oh, God. If I'd known that getting pregnant would involve this, I would have been more careful!"

"You were the one who said she wanted to keep the baby," Haymitch reminds her. "You also said that you like being pregnant. It's just the sickness and the dizziness that you hate."

"I never want to do this again," she whines, then flops down on the floor. "I'm done. I can't throw up any more."

He gets up and goes downstairs, getting her a tall glass of water with ice, then sits beside her again, giving her a kiss and the glass. "There, sweetheart, get the taste of vomit out of your mouth," he says quietly, petting her.

"You're an angel," Effie breathes, then begins to drink the water, relaxing against Haymitch's side. "I don't know how I'd cope without you."

Haymitch chuckles and kisses her head. "You'd be fine. It's just easier to have me, I can do stuff for you," he mutters, giving her a kiss. "Is it okay to touch your stomach, or are you still feeling a bit sensitive?"

"Go ahead," she murmurs, sipping some more water. He gently places his hand on the tiny raise of her stomach, carefully rubbing his nose into her hair. "That's so nice..."

Her voice is low, almost a purr, and she looks so relaxed that Haymitch has to smile. "You like that?" he asks.

"A lot. It reminds me that we're going to have a little person to love, and he's half Abernathy, half Trinket. He's going to either be our sweetest dream, or our most vicious nightmare," she whispers, her free hand joining his on her stomach. "He'll be well worth this whole ordeal."

"Or she," Haymitch reminds her.

"Until we know for sure, I'm calling him a he. I like picturing a mini-Haymitch," Effie sighs, smiling.

"I'm calling her a she. I like picturing a mini-Effie," Haymitch counters playfully. "We might have twins."

"Well, if we're having twins, I'm _not_ giving birth naturally," Effie mutters.

Haymitch laughs at her. "I was joking," he chuckles.

"I wasn't," she huffs. "I won't mangle myself twice in one day."

It appears that the very idea nauseates her, because she's being sick again in seconds, her half-drunk glass of water beside her. Haymitch sighs and starts to rub her back, soothingly murmuring "Okay, get it all up, Princess."

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, as usual, if you have any prompts, let me know, I'm eager for more one shot material. Until next time. Cat xxx**_


	30. Starting Again

_**A/N: The prompt is** **"Hi, I can make you a promt Where Effie and Peeta have a mother and son moment, I think that somehow Effie comes to fill that void, maybe Peeta gets confused and calls her mom, or at some point she started telling Mom."**_

 **This triggered all the feelings for me, and I had so much fun writing it. Here it is, Sissi. Hope you like it!** **from SiziGuez. I hope this is satisfactory.**

 _ **I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 **Starting Again**

"I don't mind her hunting, not in the slightest, but when she just vanishes like that, it scares me," Peeta sighs, pressing his forehead into his hand, hard enough to leave a mark.

Effie tenderly moves Peeta's hand off his face. "It's natural to be afraid for her, Peeta," Effie tells him, returning to her knitting as soon as she's certain the young man won't hurt himself. "I agree that she should tell you that she's going out, and where she's going, because at least then you know she's going to come home, and where she's supposed to be if she doesn't. It's safer to let people know your whereabouts, after all. But this is Katniss. Ever since she was eleven, she hasn't had to report to anyone. She's used to her independence, and she won't see the need to tell one of us where she'll be. She'll understand one day, but at the minute, she's only eighteen, and she likes to feel free."

"I don't mind that," Peeta huffs. "It's the fact that she disappears. If she would just stop, write me a note, anything to say that she's safe! Not everyone can be trusted, she should know that!"

"She does, dear," Effie sighs. "I know it's difficult to let her do as she pleases without saying a word, it's hard on all three of us. I tried to have Haymitch talk to her, you know they both speak Stubborn Child as their primary language, but he said, and I quote, the girl will be fine, stop fussing. She's been on her own more than you have, after all. Unquote."

"So what?!" Peeta explodes, causing Effie to drop her knitting at the sudden shout. "So what?! I'm just supposed to not carewhen she runs off like that?!"

"No, darling, you're supposed to care," Effie tuts softly. "I know she's a stubborn girl, darling, and talking to her is like talking to a sack of potatoes. You've tried, and she's ignored you. It's the way she is. I suppose that cell phones might be an idea, if you two would be willing to have an annoying little device in your pockets all the time."

"Nah, one of you is enough, Eff, we don't need a miniature you," Haymitch chuckles, strolling into the kitchen.

"Good, because you're not getting one," Effie huffs. "I'm trying to talk to Peeta about the girl."

""What's that got to do with a tinier you?" Haymitch asks, looking at Effie with perplexion while he puts a teabag into his mug.

"I was talking about cell phones," Effie says slowly, clearly trying to gather up her patience. "She's done another disappearing act, and we both know how that could turn out. It's not been that long since the war, Haymitch. She's only eighteen, and she's still rather upset. I don't think it's safe to let her out without knowing where she is, who she's with, and when she'll be home."

"You're not her mother," Haymitch says casually.

"I know that!" Effie scoffs. "Unlike her mother, I care for the girl, and I'd never abandon her!"

"Mom, don't bother wasting your breath," Peeta sighs. "Like you said, he and Katniss speak Stubborn Child first, English second."

Effie nods, then Peeta's words click in her mind. "Wait, you just called me Mom," she whispers, her eyes wide.

"Did I?" Peeta asks, then thinks back, his cheeks turning red. "Oh. I did. Effie, I'm-"

Effie throws her knitting aside and bolts up, running around the table to hug Peeta close. "It's okay," she whispers, clinging to him. "It's okay."

"You don't mind that, do you?" Peeta asks, hugging Effie back.

"It's an honour to be held in such regard, darling," Effie breathes, then breaks into sobs, clutching Peeta tightly.

"Since when do you like being called Mom?" Haymitch asks.

"Trust you to ruin the moment," Effie sniffs, then pulls back a bit to smile at Peeta. "How long have you been mulling that over for?"

Peeta looks awkward. "Since the Tour," he mutters, not meeting Effie's gaze.

She hugs him again. "Okay. Well, I'm more than happy to accept the role of your mother, darling," she says happily.

"Okay," Peeta says, hugging her back.

"And I promise not to be horrible to you," Effie murmurs.

Peeta hugs her tightly, then Katniss bursts in through the back door, rage on her face. Upon seeing Peeta and Effie hugging, she turns on her heel and walks out, muttering "Nope. Nope. No emotions today."

Haymitch takes out another mug and makes up another mug of tea, then follows Katniss outside, leaving Effie and Peeta to their mother and son bonding. He's got Katniss to talk to. Right now, he'd do anything to get himself out of that kitchen.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Hello! I hope you liked reading that as much as I liked writing it. It distracted me from my cold, and I'm eternally grateful for it. How are you all doing today? Looking forward to the start of December?**_

 _ **Well, that said, I am taking holiday-themed prompts as of Friday, December 1st, so if you have anything you'd like to see, comment the ideas below, send them via PM/review on Fanfiction, the username's the same there, or you can tweet or DM me on Twitter, under the username BlackCatS46. Until next time. Cat xxx**_


	31. The Problem With Corsets

_**A/N: The prompt is** **"** **I do not know if you are residing from here ideas can I make you a promp? It is known that Effie wears a corset and I remember that in ancient times women broke their ribs by adjusting them or drowning because they were too tight, you could make a story with this idea**_ "

 **This came at the perfect time for me, as I just got out of a bad writer's block, and I could not have been happier. Here it is, Sissi. Hope you like it!** **Prompt is from SiziGuez. I hope this is satisfactory.**

 _ **I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 **The Problem With Corsets**

Effie groans as her alarm buzzes next to her and slams her hand down on the snooze. Next to her, Haymitch grumbles sleepily and wraps his arms around her waist. "Why do you even have that thing set?" he mutters.

"I need to get up," Effie mumbles sleepily, snuggling closer to him. "That's why I have it set."

"Go back to sleep," he orders, squeezing her gently.

"No... That is a _very_ dangerous game to play," she murmurs sleepily.

"I've played worse," he deadpans. "What's that motto of yours? Sleep now, life later?"

"Yes, and that serves me beautifully usually, but this year, we actually stand a chance," she sighs. "We have sponsors to court. Will you be staying here or joining me in the shower?"

"Shower?" he asks, perking up a little. "With you? Why didn't you say so, Princess?"

"I should have known that anything involving warmth, nudity, and the two of us would wake you," she mutters, then gets out of the bed, pulling a fluffy robe on. "Come on, then."

Haymitch eagerly follows her to the bathroom.

* * *

After a particularly nice shower, Haymitch watches as Effie picks out a pink floral corset and the matching lace shorts, wondering why she insists on using a corset. "You're tiny enough, Eff. Just wear a bra," he says, eyeing the corset with disgust.

"You just like the ease of access when I wear a bra," Effie chuckles. "I need a corset today, the dress I plan to wear requires a smaller figure than mine."

"Any smaller, and even a skeleton would worry about your weight," Haymitch deadpans.

"That's strictly untrue," Effie says, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "I've worn these things since I was twelve, darling. It won't hurt me."

"Wrong," Haymitch huffs. "You're being ridiculous again. You'll end up dead in one of those things, small thing."

"I'm not going to die," she giggles. "You're just dramatic."

She wraps the corset around her body and laces it up. Haymitch watches as she draws it tighter and tighter, and sees that it's getting _too_ tight. He reaches to stop her, urgency in his voice as he exclaims "Effie, no!" a second too late.

A disturbing _crunch_ sounds through the room and Effie freezes for a second before gasping softly. She looks up at Haymitch, their gazes meeting in the mirror, horrorstruck grey meeting pained blue, then whispers "That isn't good."

Haymitch, ever the dutiful _not-boyfriend_ he is, unlaces the corset and throws it across the room, grabbing a bra from the drawer and sliding it onto her in a way that means that she doesn't have to move. "I told you those things would kill you," he grumbles.

"I'm not dead, Haymitch," Effie mutters, wincing. "I think I have broken ribs, though."

"Really?!" Haymitch gaps sarcastically, rolling his eyes at her. "That resounding crunch and the pain in your voice didn't give _that_ away in the _slightest_!"

"All right, all right, I get it!" Effie snaps, then glances down at her front. "Do my ribs look broken?"

"Yeah, they do," Haymitch sighs. "I told you that this sort of thing would happen to you. You just have to learn the hard way, don't you?"

"You're being a very bad boyfriend to give me an _I told you so_ when I'm dying," Effie grumbles.

"I'm not your _boyfriend_ , and you're _not_ dying," Haymitch mutters, then helps her into her lacy shorts. As soon as she's securely in her underwear, he slides a shirt over her head and helps her into a skirt, then wraps her in a blanket. "Come on, you."

"Where are we going?" she asks, then screams in agony as he picks her up and accidentally jolts her ribs.

"Sorry, small thing," he says, tenderly kissing her forehead. "Didn't mean to hurt you. We're going to get you checked on. Broken ribs are nasty."

Effie sighs, then leans her head on his shoulder. "You're a darling, Haymitch. Where would I be without you?" she asks.

"Still in that damned corset, no doubt," he scoffs. "What am I gonna do with you? Adorable little plank."

"I'm not a plank," she protests, kissing his shoulder. "I'm an Effie."

He lifts an eyebrow as he carries her downstairs. "You're going to be banned from corsets for the next six months," he chuckles.

Effie huffs softly, and glares at him when he's proven right. "I hate you," she tells him, her voice flat and serious.

"Yeah, I know," Haymitch chuckles. "You wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Hello! I hope you liked reading that as much as I liked writing it. How are you all doing today? Looking forward to your holidays?**_

 _ **Well, that said, I have been taking holiday-themed prompts as of Friday, December 1st, so if you have anything you'd like to see, comment the ideas below, send them via PM/review on Fanfiction, the username's the same there, or you can tweet or DM me on Twitter, under the username BlackCatS46. Until next time. Cat xxx**_


	32. Night Owl

_**A/N: The prompt is** **"Can you do one when Effie is pregnant and she goes into Labor in the middle of the night? PLEASE!"**_

 _ **To the Guest who asked me for this, here you go! I hope you enjoy this :)**_

 _ **I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 **Night Owl**

"I want this baby out by noon tomorrow," Effie groans as she sinks into the mattress. "I am so _sick_ of being pregnant. Have I mentioned that I hate you, Haymitch?"

"Once or twice," he says sleepily. "Look, it took both of us to make the kid, we both decided we wanted it, what's the problem?"

"My back hurts, my stomach looks like I was inflated, my feet hurt, my head hurts, I'm nauseous, and I need the toilet every ten minutes," Effie sighs. "The list goes on, should I continue?"

"No, you're whining enough," Haymitch mutters.

"I was due last week," she huffs. "This baby is _definitely_ yours. More so than it is mine. I was a very eager little girl, I was nearly eight weeks early. As usual."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Haymitch chuckles, then rolls over and kisses her, gently rubbing her swollen stomach and making their baby kick. "Look, Peanut's just enjoying being all warm inside you. You'll miss being pregnant when he or she is screaming the place down."

"I'll _never_ miss being the size of a whale, Haymitch," Effie vows. "Never _ever_. It's awful."

"So's having a crying baby," Haymitch points out.

"Are you saying that you don't want him?" Effie asks, protectively covering her stomach with her hands, her eyes wide in fear. "Do we have to leave?"

"No, you don't have to leave, sweetheart," Haymitch says, rushing his words a bit in his haste to correct her. "I want the baby, Princess. I'm just saying, being a new mom is going to suck just as badly for you as being in the third trimester of pregnancy does."

Effie sighs quietly. "I know... I'm just so _done_ with being pregnant," she says softly. "I love our baby, but he does hurt me now that he's overdue and huge."

"He could still be a she," Haymitch says softly.

"Until I have given birth, he is a he to me," Effie replies, then yawns, stretching out uncomfortably. "Come on, nap with me. He's clearly not being born tonight."

Haymitch nods and gives her a kiss, rubbing her stomach lightly. "Okay, Princess. Sleep well," he whispers.

"Thank you," she murmurs back. "You too."

They drift off to sleep, cuddled up together to keep the warmth in. Just an hour later, Effie squirms free of Haymitch's hold, waking him up. "Where are you goin'?" he mumbles.

"To the bathroom, dear," Effie murmurs. "Your son is crushing my bladder."

He nods, then rolls onto her pillow to inhale her scent. He's just drifting back off to sleep when Effie's piercing scream echoes through their house. He bolts out of bed and runs to the door, opening it with ease. He finds Effie clutching the side of their bathtub, kneeling down and crying. "Princess, what's wrong?" he asks, fear tearing through his veins like wildfire.

"My water just broke," she sobs. "It started as a little trickle, then the next thing I knew, there was so much water, and the pain's getting worse. We need the midwife, please go and call the clinic. Please..."

Haymitch goes to their room and grabs Effie's cell, finding the number for the clinic with ease. He calls the midwife, listening with increasing unease to Effie's periodic screams of pain. He barely listens to the midwife, too uncomfortable with Effie being in pain for any attention to go to the midwife. As soon as he's hung up, he rushes back to the bathroom to find Effie lying flat on her back with her legs propped up on the bathtub. "That can't be comfortable," Haymitch says, eyeing her.

"It's more comfortable than the contractions," Effie murmurs, pale as a sheet, a light sheen of sweat covering her face and matting her hair. "Oh, God, I feel so sick."

"You're in a lot of pain, sickness is natural," Haymitch whispers, kneeling beside her and accidentally knocking her head with his knee. She winces and he immediately moves back, accidentally pulling her hair. She gasps in pain and he exclaims "God! Effie, I'm so sorry!"

"Just stop moving!" Effie snaps. "Don't move! You will either concuss me or scalp me!"

He nods, then gently strokes her cheek. "You're gonna be okay, Eff," he whispers.

"I hope so," she sighs. "How long until the midwife gets here?"

"Not sure, about ten minutes or so," Haymitch says. "The clinic's not that far away. Why did you insist on a home birth again?"

"Because I panic in hospitals," Effie sighs, rubbing her stomach and whining in pain. "Could I look any bigger?"

"Absolutely," Haymitch replies. "You're still small, you're just a bit bigger because of a miraculously smaller person than you."

"Miraculously smaller?" she asks, lifting an eyebrow. "I'll have you know, I'm the _average_ size for a woman, thank you."

"You're the average size for a _tiny_ woman," he chuckles.

"You're the _worst_ ," Effie whines, clutching her stomach. "No, no, there won't be enough time for the midwife, this baby' in a rush now that he's decided he's on his way."

"What do you mean?" Haymitch asks, panicking now.

"I _mean_ , I can feel his head about to crown," Effie gasps. "Oh, God, shoot me!"

The midwife arrives just in time and Haymitch runs to open the door. He shows the midwife upstairs to the bathroom, where Effie's sobbing and holding her stomach. "Well, look at you," the midwife says, immediately helping Effie get comfortable. "Almost done already."

"Already?! I've been carrying this child for over nine months, and now he's trying to _murder me_! Oh, God!" Effie screams.

Haymitch strokes her hair soothingly. "You're almost done, Princess," he whispers.

"Don't you _dare_ touch me!" Effie bellows. "Don't! It's _because_ of you _touching me_ that I'm in this mess in the first place!"

"Wow," Haymitch mutters. "This poor kid doesn't know what she's being born to."

"It is a _he_ ," Effie whimpers. A minute later, she screams loudly and demands "When will this baby be out of me?!"

"Just push on the next contraction, your baby's almost out," the midwife says.

Effie waits patiently for the next contraction, and shrieks loudly enough for a deaf person to hear it as she pushes. The midwife smiles as she lifts up the baby. "Here he is," she chuckles. "A perfect baby boy."

Effie gasps, waiting for another contraction before she pushes again, the placenta quickly following the baby. The midwife carefully wraps the baby up in a soft blanket that Haymitch had picked, then places the newborn on his mother's chest. "Oh," Effie breathes, looking at her newborn in amazement. "Hello, darling."

Haymitch gives Effie a kiss and whispers "Well done, Mommy."

Effie grins broadly and kisses him back. "Thank you," she whispers, then beams at him. "Daddy."

He chuckles and hugs her close, admiring their newborn baby. "Look at him," he whispers. "He's gonna break hearts."

"If he gets out during the day. Our boy's a night owl, just like his daddy," Effie chuckles, tears rolling down her cheeks in delight. "He's so perfect, Haymitch."

Haymitch nods in agreement, then asks "What's his name, sweetheart?"

"Zachary," Effie whispers. "It was the only name we agreed on."

Haymitch chuckles, then pets her. "Okay. Zachary it is," he says, then gently touches his son's foot. The baby squeals and pulls his foot away. "He inherited your ticklish feet."

"That's the only trait this child has of mine," Effie giggles, exhaustion, pain, and relief getting to her now. "Like I said, he's perfect."

"Yeah, he is," Haymitch murmurs, staring at his son in awe. "I could just watch him forever."

"Same," Effie murmurs, staring delightedly at their baby. "He's going to keep us up all night, you know."

"That's the thing with owls, we tend to stay up all night and sleep all day," Haymitch chuckles.

Effie laughs and cuddles the baby close. "If it's for him, I don't mind," she whispers. "Anything for him."

"Anything at all," Haymitch agrees. Looking down at their son, the two of them silently vow to move heaven and hell for their son. They will be a force to be reckoned with over this baby boy.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Hello! I hope you liked reading that as much as I liked writing it. How are you all doing today? Looking forward to your holidays?**_

 _ **Well, that said, if you have anything you'd like to see, comment the ideas below, send them via PM/review on Fanfiction, the username's the same there, or you can tweet or DM me on Twitter, under the username BlackCatS46. Until next time. Cat xxx**_


	33. Triplets

_Prompt is from a Guest reader who asked "Can you do one when Effie is pregnant with triplets and haymitch finds out and gets mad? You choose the ending!"_

 _Firstly, I tricked the prompt a little because of the common headcanon in the fandom that Effie is on birth control during the Games, and I doubt she would ever let an accidental pregnancy in that timeframe go on to discover how many babies she would be carrying, so this is set at an undetermined point post-Mockingjay, and I've left physical descriptions out for you to decide upon which universe this is._

 _Second, I'm sorry it took so long to update this. It's up on my Twitter at the minute, but I've been working on my chaptered story on AO3, and that has taken up a lot of my time when it came to planning it. I will not be abandoning my one-shots, though. I'll keep this going for as long as there are readers and prompts._

 _Other than those little things, I hope you like it. Enjoy! xxx_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like playing around with her characters.**

 _ **Triplets**_

"Haymitch?" Effie calls, placing her keys on the table by the front door, resting her hand next to them to take her shoes off. "Where are you?"

Haymitch steps into the hall, carrying a fold-up stool. He unfolds it and says "Sit down, not-so-small stuff. If you fall, you'll hurt yourself and the peanut."

"Well, honey," she starts slowly. "About the peanut..."

"What? Is something wrong?" he asks, his hand coming to rest on her stomach.

"No, darling, nothing's wrong... It's just that, well, I'm not as far along as we suspected," she says, a small smile creeping onto her lips.

"What's that meant to mean?" he asks. "You said you suspected being six months along, given the size of you."

"Rude," she huffs. "Well, no. The doctor told me that I am a little over fourteen weeks, which would explain how I suspected stress being the cause of my weight gain. We both know that my period doesn't like sticking to a schedule any more."

"How does _fourteen weeks_ equal _this_?" he asks, gesturing to her stomach.

She glances down at her bulging stomach, then grins. "That's what I meant about _peanut_ ," she says, smiling broadly. "It's _peanuts_."

"What?! Twins?" he asks, his eyes widening.

"No, not twins," Effie giggles, rubbing her stomach happily. "Triplets."

"You _what_?!" Haymitch bellows.

"Triplets," she giggles. "Explains the size, doesn't it?"

"Three kids?! Eff, we're inexperienced enough as it is! What makes you think we'll be capable of raising _three_?!" he demands, glaring at her.

"Well, we did an okay job with the older kids, and we both know they were more than four handfuls worth of trouble," Effie whispers, fear sinking into her soul. "Why are you angry at me? I didn't intentionally make three babies. Come to think of it, I didn't intentionally make _one_ baby."

"Yeah, yeah, nothing's _ever_ your fault," he laughs, scorn dripping from every word. "You know what? Stop making excuses for yourself and tell me who the real father of these kids is! I _know_ it can't have been me, I'm barely capable of making one!"

"Excuse me?!" Effie demands, rage flooding her at his accusation. "Excuse me?! Did I hear you correctly?! Did you just accuse _me_ of being unfaithful?!"

"I don't hear you denying it!" Haymitch roars back.

"That's because it's too _stupid_ an accusation to bother denying! If I _was_ to be unfaithful to you, I would have the common sense to be on every form of birth control there is! I most certainly would _not_ be silly enough to allow myself to fall pregnant! As it happens, here I am with _three_ of your children inside me! You do the mathematics here!" she rages, pushing him into the wall with a strength she hadn't known that she possessed until that moment, heading up the stairs. "And while your backwards brain tries to work that simple statement out, I am leaving! I won't tolerate being accused of infidelity by the man I have sworn my loyalty to!"

She stomps upstairs while Haymitch catches his breath. He hears things being thrown about and slammed, his mind immediately going to the worst case scenario. He runs upstairs and bursts into their bedroom, finding Effie's suitcase open on the bed and her things thrown haphazardly into it. He sees her violently throwing her makeup into a bag and tears streaming down her face. "Eff, don't play stupid, you know you're not going anywhere. These theatrics are getting old," he sighs.

"Well, _lucky you,_ Haymitch, I'm not messing around," she snarls. "I'm not staying here when you have no faith in me. I won't bring _my_ children into a home where there's no trust to be found. Anyway, it's only because you're guilty of being unfaithful to me that you even had the idea that I'd do it. It's a sign of a guilty conscience. I've had enough men cheat on me to know the signs."

She throws the makeup into her suitcase on top of the heap she's already got, then piles the few things she arrived in Twelve with on top of that, then forces her suitcase closed so that she can zip it. "Eff, there's no way I'd ever cheat on you!" Haymitch scoffs, anger at her raging through him.

"Oh, so _I'm_ supposed to believe _you_?" she chuckles, furious beyond expression. "The thing is, _darling_ , I _don't_ believe you. Why should I? You've given me plenty of reasons not to, and accusing me of cheating is the final straw!"

She lifts her suitcase and storms from their room with it. She heads down the stairs as carefully and quickly as she can. Haymitch reaches the door just in time to see her getting into a cab that belongs to the only cab company in Twelve.

* * *

Three days later, he receives a letter in the mail. It's from Effie, and he's half tempted to rip it all up, but he catches sight of a little black-and-white picture. It's of three tiny babies, all of them with their tiny hands near their faces. He picks up the little note inside and sees the words _DNA Test Results: Father - Haymitch Abernathy. Mother - Euphemia Abernathy._ And underneath that, Effie's neat script reads _I told you so. :) Love you._ "What is this crazy woman playing at?" Haymitch mutters to himself, wondering why Effie's still telling him that she loves him.

He reads her letter next. _Dearest Haymitch, I do hope you've learnt your lesson. I am currently on a week-long holiday in Four. I thought I'd give you a few days of torment for the way you treated me in the hopes that you'd learn not to accuse me of such cruel things without any evidence. And I know perfectly well that you haven't been unfaithful to me. I'm not quite as stupid as I look. Our children are doing fine, they're taking it in turns to wind me all hours of the day and night. I enclosed their latest ultrasound photo and the DNA test results. I thought you'd like to see that. I had it done when I found out that I was having triplets, because I knew you'd be concerned. You've always found it hard to trust me. Anyway, I will see you on Sunday, darling. All my love, your Princess. xxx_ He sits down on the stool he'd left in place since Effie had walked out, relief pouring over him like cold water on a burn, then the phone rings. He presses answer to hear Effie ask "Did you get my letter?"

"I hate you," he mutters.

"Oh, that's nice," she huffs. "So do I need to book another hotel for next week, then?"

"No!" he exclaims, the sound close to a yelp. "No, you don't have to do that. You can come back whenever you're ready."

Effie starts laughing down the phone. "Okay," she gasps, still laughing. "I will be back at the end of the week. I've got several spa treatments lined up, and I want to be as relaxed as possible when I come home."

Haymitch smiles a bit at her confirmation that she will come home. "As long as you do come home," he says softly. "I swear I won't accuse you of cheating again."

"That's good to know," she giggles, still not quite over his desperation to have her home. "I won't accuse you of cheating again either."

"Thanks, sweetheart. You be nice to yourself and our kids, yeah?" he asks, wishing for Sunday to arrive already.

"Of course. Look after yourself and our two grown up kids, won't you?" she asks.

"Sure, Princess," he replies, smirking a little.

"I love you," she tells him quietly.

"Love you too," he mutters, still a bit uncomfortable with telling her that. She takes in a soft but audible breath of air, but says nothing about it. "Talk to you soon."

"Talk to you soon," she whispers happily, then hangs up.

Haymitch puts the phone down, then drops his head onto the table. "That woman's going to kill me," he mutters to himself.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Well, I hope you liked that! As usual, if you have anything you'd like to see, please leave them in a review, PM me, tweet me, or DM me on Twitter at BlackCatS46. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx**_


	34. The Pregnancy Tests

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from a Guest reader, who requested: "Hi can you please do one when Effie is pregnant and haymitch finds out and gets mad that she didn't tell him right away? You pick what happens next!" Here it is! I hope you like how this went._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 _ **The Pregnancy Tests**_

Haymitch grumbles as he hears Effie singing in the living room of their house, her voice far too happy for his hungover brain to cope with. He gets out of bed and stomps downstairs, still very much naked. He approaches Effie, who's dancing around the living room to her own little tune, looking very pleased with herself. "What's put you in such a good mood, short stuff?" he asks sleepily, hugging her close.

"Oh, nothing," she says, beaming up at him. "I just love life. Don't you?"

"Nah, not really. I like not being woken up by happy women singing," he says, then kisses the top of her head. "Or you happily _attempting_ to sing."

She sticks her tongue out at him like a five year old. "Just try to stop me," she giggles.

"I'm rubbing off on you," he chuckles, poking her lips. "You just stuck your tongue out. Not very proper, or polite."

"Prove that I did that, then we can talk business," she says sweetly, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I knew I chose the right woman," he chuckles. "Now, little squish, did you take the garbage out yet?"

"I took the downstairs stuff out," she says. "I haven't done upstairs yet, I didn't want to wake you."

"Okay, thanks," he murmurs into her ear. "Tell you what, I'll get the garbage out from upstairs, and I'll change the bedsheets."

"You don't have to do that, honey," she tells him, smiling sweetly, pleased that he's offered.

"I live here too. We should share chores, it makes life easier," he says, giving her a kiss. "Is there anything else that'll need to be done up there?"

"Nothing I can't handle," she chuckles. "I'll do everything else, I get bored easily when I don't have you to snuggle with."

He chuckles quietly and kisses her. "Whatever you like, Princess," he murmurs, then kisses her again before heading to the hall.

"Haymitch," Effie says abruptly.

He turns back, wanting another look at her. "Yeah?" he asks. "You need anything?"

"No," she replies, smiling softly. "I just wanted to say thank you again, and remind you that I love you."

He smirks, pride flushing him as he revels in her declaration of love. "You too, Eff," he says, then heads upstairs, feeling extremely proud. He hears her singing again, then shakes his head fondly. He likes it that she still sings when she's happy, even after everything she's gone through. He empties the bin in their bedroom, mostly full of papers he's thrown out, with some of Effie's old makeup, empty nail polish bottles, and broken hair ties, a smirk on his lips at Effie's stuff in his wastepaper bin. He then heads to the guests' bathroom, emptying that bin out. It contains the remnants of a dinner party that Effie had thrown and forced him to help her host, and a few ruined face cloths. He then goes to their en-suite bathroom, and empties that bin, which is usually full of used makeup wipes, empty pots of cream, cans of shaving foam, empty shampoo bottles, and old sponges. This time, right on top of the mess, there are three white plastic sticks. He hears Effie's feet pattering as she runs up the stairs. He picks up the sticks and a leaflet that they were resting on. The door flies open as he spots the words _pregnancy test_ on the leaflet, and the two lines on each of the screens on the tests. His world turns cold as the meaning of these tests dawns on him. "Effie, what are these?"

"Mitch, it's not what it looks like," Effie says softly, quietly defensive.

"These are pregnancy tests. _Positive_ pregnancy tests," he says, his voice hollow.

"Haymitch, darling, I can explain," Effie tells him, the words dripping fear.

"I'm not as simple as you think, Effie," Haymitch says coldly. "You and I have unprotected sex, which I would think would lead to a baby, which led to you thinking something was off, you used three pregnancy tests, you saw them come out positive, you got happy because you're pregnant. That doesn't need explaining. What does need explaining is why you didn't tell me when I asked you."

"Excuse me?" she asks.

"I heard you singing, you woke me up with it," he says, his voice hardening and slowly gaining fury. "I came down, and I asked you what made you so happy, and you told me that you just love life, instead of telling me that you're pregnant. Now... I would ask you why that is, but I don't think I can trust a word that comes out of that pretty little mouth. So here's my theory."

"Theory?" Effie asks, shocked.

"Yeah, my theory on why you didn't tell me immediately. See, I don't think the kid's mine," he says, glaring at her. "You go out for hours and hours every day, and you always give me the same excuse. You're at the bakery. The kids don't always need you there. So that begs the question: Where _do_ you go? Answer: To your secret lover. Now, I wouldn't be mad about this, but you've been repeatedly dishonest with me when you _could_ have just said that you met someone else and wanted more than what I can give you. He's dumped you, and you're going to have his baby. You thought that you could formulate a plan to make _me_ believe that the baby's mine, using the fact that we have unprotected sex, but I didn't give you enough time to do that. I'm going to ask people, so don't lie to me. Did I get it right?"

"Not in the slightest," Effie huffs, her eyes closed off. "You're unbelievable. The _real_ reason I didn't tell you is because I wanted to keep feeling happy for a little while before I told you and got a fight out of it because you think that us ever having a family is a bad idea! _That_ is why I didn't tell you! I wanted to avoid a scene like this! And I wasn't wrong to give myself time to adjust to the idea, I wasn't wrong to want to wait a little, and I really wasn't wrong about your atrocious reaction!"

"Yeah, sure, Princess, blame me! _Atrocious reaction_ , yeah! You didn't even tell me about your suspicion! What am I _meant_ to think?! That _you_ , a really pretty woman, didn't get bored with the same guy and go off with another man, then get pregnant by him, dumped, and think your oblivious live-in man would just _accept_ that you're pregnant?! I'm not that stupid, Effie, I happen to have a brain!" he yells. "I want the truth!"

Effie grabs something from the cabinet under the sink, tears sparkling in her eyes. "I went to the doctor as soon as I found out last night. That's where I vanished to. And they did a DNA test on the baby, they gave me my results an hour before you woke up," she says.

"Why did you do a DNA test if you haven't cheated?" he asks suspiciously.

"Because I know your brain," she whispers, her voice breaking. "You have about as much trust in me as you did in President Coin. I've always known that much, I was your escort. I know your signs of mistrust. I wanted to be able to prove that this baby is ours. Look."

He reads it all, then reads out the only bit that matters to him. "Mother, Euphemia Trinket," he murmurs. "Father, Haymitch Abernathy."

"You see?" Effie whispers, sniffing a bit. "I would _never_ be unfaithful to you. I have been unfaithful to men before, and I was never off my birth control with them, nor did I let them forget or simply not use condoms like I allow you to. That should be proof enough of my loyalty to you, shouldn't it? I am yours, after all."

"Who did you cheat with?" he asks suspiciously.

"I was unfaithful to several lovers during the Games, and the man I was with was you. Every time, that man was you," she admits. "You have no faith in me. I suppose, after that confession, you have reasons for that, but you're the man I cheated on them with. Nobody else, ever."

"You're sure?" he asks.

"Yes," she replies, then snatches the results of the DNA test back. "Anyway, forget it. The baby's yours. You don't have to be afraid of it being anyone else's baby."

"Effie," he says, reaching for her.

His heart breaks as she avoids his touch. "Touch me, and I will make you wish I was unfaithful," she tells him icily, then puts the DNA results back in the cupboard before she stalks out and heads to their bedroom. She pulls out a small suitcase and begins packing it up.

"What are you doing?" Haymitch asks nervously.

"I am going to go and see my blood relatives," she says, her voice getting colder. "They deserve to hear the news in person, and I need a holiday. I'm certainly _not_ coming back until I reach thirteen weeks at the earliest."

"How far along are you now?" he asks, wanting her back in his arms already. He can't imagine not having her, not kissing her good morning, or saying hello or goodbye all day with kisses, or kissing her while they cuddle, or while they make dinner, or while they get ready for bed, or just before they go to sleep, and it hurts him deeply to try.

"I'm seven weeks along," she tells him. "If I stay here and feel sad, there's a chance the baby might die, and I won't risk it."

Six weeks without her seems like torture to him, but he nods sadly. "Okay. If it's what's best for you and the peanut, fine," he says softly, watching her packing. "Do you want some help?"

"No, thank you," Effie sighs. "I'm fine."

Haymitch watches her pack, then walks her to the train station. He helps her load her luggage onto the train, then says "Call me when you get there to let me know that you and Peanut are okay. If you need me to come and get you at any point, call me. And remember to call me if you cut your trip short."

"I will," she promises, tears still sparkling in her eyes.

"That's my girl," he says, both proud of her and sad to know that she's leaving him for the next six weeks. "Go shine your beauty on the Capitol for a bit. Remind them that you're still perfect. Oh, and don't go out alone, you're still seen as a traitor on every level to most people."

"I know," she says, then kisses him. "You be good to yourself. Treat yourself like you will on the day I return home, okay? And don't worry about mess, it means I'll have something to do when I get home, because I'll be bored out of my mind in the city."

"Okay," he says, kissing her again. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replies, beaming. "See you soon."

"See you, Princess," he says, then helps her onto the train. He steps off as the doors close, and waves at her until the train disappears before he goes home. He hates the house without her, it's too quiet, too empty, too big, and too dark. He goes upstairs to their room as if in a daze, then falls onto their bed, burying his face in her pillow and inhaling her scent. He doesn't notice that he's crying until the first sob rips its way out of his throat, vaguely sounding like "Effie..."

*line*

 _ **A/N 2: Hello! I hope you liked reading that as much as I liked writing it.**_

 _ **Well, that said, if you have anything you'd like to see, comment the ideas below, send them via PM/review on Fanfiction, the username's the same there, or you can tweet or DM me on Twitter, under the username BlackCatS46. Until next time. Cat xxx**_


	35. Friday's Body Swap

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from a Guest reader, who requested: "Can you please do a freaky Friday one where they switch bodies when Effie is pregnant and haymitch finds out how hard and annoying pregnancy is?!" Here it is! I hope you like how this went._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 **Friday's Body Swap**

 _Thursday night..._

"You're always complaining," Haymitch mutters under his breath, annoyed by Effie's uncomfortable wriggling. "Can't you just appreciate the fact that you're not freezing to death or starving?"

Effie's bright blue eyes turn on him with a deadly glare. "No, I can't," she snarls, her words dripping fury. "And do you want to know _why_ I cannot appreciate it?"

"Go on," Haymitch scoffs. "No, actually, let me guess... You're being whiny because you're pregnant? Is that it?"

"Yes, and guess whose fault this is," she hisses. "I can tell you that. It's _your_ fault. You put this baby in me. Now you can listen to me whine because my back is hurting, and my feet are swollen. You insisted on no condoms, and I was nice enough to allow it. Now look at me. This is _your_ fault."

"Yeah, yeah, you not being on anything is my fault, the goddamn milk turning sour is my fault, the extinction of the dinosaurs is my fault," Haymitch scoffs. "Keep going, Princess, you'll drive me back to drink."

"You're the worst," Effie huffs. "Most men would be delighted to help their wives during pregnancy. You can't even give me a back rub."

"What good would _that_ do?" Haymitch scoffs. "You're too big to lie on your front anyway."

Effie's eyes flash with fury and Haymitch braces himself for a smack that would send him reeling, but instead he sees her shoulders sag. "Thank you for that," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I wish I could switch my body for yours. You could experience this first hand, try not to cry or complain once when you're in agony, and have no support. I really wish I could make you live through a day of this."

Seeing that he's hurt her, he reaches for her. "Effie, do you want a back rub that badly?" he asks quietly.

She pulls away from his touch. "No, I don't, and I don't want _pity_ ," she whispers, then slides off the sofa, holding her stomach with one hand, wincing as she stands. "I'm going to bed now. I'd like a few hours before... Oh, who am I kidding? You don't care. Come up when you're ready."

"Effie," he sighs, but she's already hobbling off at the best speed she can manage. "Damn it."

He hears silence for the longest ten minutes of his life, then the quiet sniffs begin. He listens with increasing guilt as Effie cries herself to sleep. He doesn't bother going upstairs, not even after she's fallen asleep.

 _Friday morning_

Effie's eyes flutter open, and she immediately notices something amiss. _I'm in the living room_ , she thinks, her eyes widening. She sits up, then freezes as she registers a difference with her body. _This isn't mine_ , she thinks, then glances down at her front, wondering where the baby bump she had last night is. She gasps as it hits her. _This is Haymitch's body!_ "Oh, my..." she breathes, hearing Haymitch's gravelly voice in place of her own delicate squeak.

"Ugh, what happened?" she hears her own voice from upstairs.

Without a second thought, she bounds off the sofa, relishing her ability to do that, then runs up the stairs. She stops dead in the doorway to hers and Haymitch's bedroom as she spots none other than her own self on the bed. She smirks and leans against the door frame, watching as Haymitch in Effie's body comes to terms with the wriggling baby inside her body, feeling a great satisfaction as Haymitch just looks confused. After a minute, he struggles to stand, then waddles over to the mirror. He gapes for a second, then touches his stomach, a horrified look on his face. "It sucks being pregnant, doesn't it?" Effie drawls, smirking.

"God!" Haymitch yells, the sound unusually shrill. He turns to glare at her, then his jaw drops at the sight. "You're me."

"And I'm relishing my full range of movement," Effie chuckles. "Tell me, how does it feel to have a tiny human kicking your internal organs, darling?"

Haymitch grimaces, contorting Effie's features before smoothing them out and smirking at her. "Well, I like it," he says. "Didn't think it'd feel so good."

"You're lying," Effie scoffs. "I know my face, and my body. That little flush? That's my lying flush. Try to lie better next time you want to lie to me. Oh, and... I wouldn't bother trying to find anything that fits over your breasts. You'll fail miserably, and it'll hurt. Just put on a maternity shirt and some leggings."

"Not very fashionable," Haymitch remarks.

"Perhaps, but extremely comfortable. You'll want to be as comfortable as possible, you've got lots of work to do," she chuckles. "Cleaning, cooking, laundry, and there's still the nasty little task of tidying up with the cleaning."

"You're helping with that, right?" he asks.

"No," she giggles. "Not a chance. I do this stuff alone every day, and I avoid as many sugary cravings as I can. I want to be a good looking new mother, after all. That baby needs to be healthy too, so no junk food. Good luck."

She saunters off, leaving Haymitch to his own devices.

* * *

Three o'clock that afternoon arrives and Effie's living it up in Haymitch's body, watching him in hers. "How do you feel?" she asks lazily, watching him waddle around in her body.

"I'd feel better if you were helping me," Haymitch grumbles. "All this bending is hard when the baby gets in the way."

"Oh, poor thing," Effie mocks. "It can't be _that_ bad! It's just growing another person, it's not like your own body _hurts_ or anything!"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Haymitch mutters. "How do you live with these _things_ attached to your front? They're murder on the back."

"They're called breasts, Haymitch," Effie chuckles, sipping some of the orange juice she's holding. "You should know, given how many times you've professed your love for them."

"Not loving them now," he grumbles.

"Oh? Well, when I get my body back, I certainly won't be letting you near them," she chuckles. "Or maybe you'll adore them again when I'm the one suffering the pain. How's the back?"

"Murder," Haymitch grumbles. "How do you run around with this going on all the time?"

"I suppose I am simply tougher than you," she chuckles. "Come here, I miss my baby."

"Don't call me that," he mutters angrily.

"I meant the unborn baby," she sighs. "You're here, whining like a needy child yourself, missing you would be difficult. I miss my _actual_ baby."

Haymitch sighs and approaches the sofa with a dirty look for Effie. "I hate this," he mutters. "I would hate to be a woman."

"For the time being, you _are_ a woman," Effie chuckles, then gently places a hand over the baby's feet, beaming as a foot catches her hand. "Aww! Hello, sweetie!"

Haymitch glowers at her. "Don't encourage it, it's bouncing on my bladder," he growls.

"Oh, stop whining, it's not _that_ bad," she huffs.

"Yeah, because it's not you putting up with it," Haymitch hisses.

"I do this _daily_. This is a respite for me, and a lesson for you," she says. "How do you think you are doing with this?"

"Badly," Haymitch snarls.

Effie winces. "Oh, I did _not_ know I looked so ugly when I snarl," she gasps.

"Yeah? Bet you didn't know that you're full of acne, either," Haymitch scoffs.

"Actually, I did," she says. "And I notice that the body you're currently using is huge. It's jiggly, and will probably never look sexy to either of us again. Cherish your own body when you get it back, it'll feel like paradise to you. I can't _stand_ the sight of mine."

She makes a point of looking away, and Haymitch feels a rush of sadness. He knows it's her pregnancy hormones affecting her body, but it hurts him deeply to know that she doesn't like the way she looks. "I thought pregnant women loved the way their bodies look," Haymitch murmurs, wondering why he's so upset over her insecurity.

"Most do," Effie says. "I'm proud of my body for surviving this much, and for living with our baby, but I must admit, I feel uglier in my own skin than ever before. I wouldn't ever change it, not for the world, because we wouldn't have our baby if I did, but if I could have been beautiful, I could live with the pain."

"So you've been moaning about the pain all this time because you don't feel beautiful?" he asks, then winces as their baby kicks him in the rib.

"Well, being heavily pregnant is no fun for me, but partially, yes. I don't feel beautiful," Effie sighs. "I mean, I do now, because I'm you, but in my own body, forget it."

Haymitch sighs and pulls her close. "I'm sorry, Princess," he whispers.

"I should hope so," she whispers back. "Let's go to bed. I'm hoping we will change back to our own bodies by morning. I may hate the pain I suffer during pregnancy, but I would _love_ to feel my baby move inside me again."

* * *

 _Saturday morning_

"Mm," Effie hums sleepily, pressing her face into her pillow to avoid the sun. "Go 'way, sunlight, it's too early for that kind of energy."

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Haymitch chuckles from the foot of the bed.

"If I'm back in my own body, then don't go calling me beautiful," she grumbles.

"You're you again," Haymitch tells her. "And I brought you breakfast."

"Why?" Effie asks suspiciously. "Who's ill?"

"Nobody," he tells her softly, trying to reassure her. "I just wanted to treat you."

She lifts an eyebrow at him. "Okay, what's going on?" she asks. "You never want to treat me unless you want sex, and I doubt that this is sex-related."

"Well, it's not sex-related," Haymitch says. "But it could have been."

"Really?" she asks disbelievingly. "If it was, I would be less full of baby, much slimmer, and dressed in some kinky lingerie."

"No," he says, shaking his head a bit. "Just as you are. I told you, I don't care about your looks at all. I care about you, and after yesterday, I understood just how bad a job of proving that I was doing."

"Okay, now tell me what's _really_ happening here," she says, folding her arms.

"You know what I'm saying," Haymitch sighs, rubbing her knee. "I know what sort of pain you're suffering now, and I want to make it easier for you. I've really neglected you lately, and that's not fair when the little one's mine too. Just eat your breakfast, then take a day off from your busy life."

"What? This place will be twice as messy if I'm not on top of the mess," Effie gasps.

"So let me do it for you," he says softly. "Let me do the hard work you usually do. I don't mind making life easy for you. If you like, I'll give you a back rub."

Effie giggles and shakes her head. "No thank you," she says. "I'm really not in the mood for that. I'd rather just go about my every day life. No point making you work more than absolutely necessary, after all."

"At least take today to rest and recover," he urges, rubbing her leg. "It's not good for you and the baby if you're constantly exhausted."

"We've made it this far," Effie tells him gently.

"I will tie you to this bed," Haymitch warns. "You're staying here, end of story. Enjoy your day of being a literal princess."

"If this child is born stubborn, I'm blaming you," she laughs, giving him a kiss.

"You do that," he says, then kisses her back. "Now eat, you have a long day of doing nothing ahead of you."

Effie laughs, obediently eating her food. "You're so bossy," she giggles.

"Yeah, well, it's my job to look out for my girls," he says awkwardly, patting her stomach softly.

Effie beams as the baby kicks at Haymitch's hand. "I love you," she says proudly. "And for all my griping at you, I'm pleased that we're going to have our own little family."

"Me too," Haymitch tells her quietly, smirking a bit at her.

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. If you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. This was really fun for me to write, and I hope it wasn't too confusing. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	36. Effie's Attacks

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from Sizi, who requested via Direct Message on Twitter: "_ _postscript I can give you a promt. I can ask you to write a story where Effie suffers from asthma and tries to hide it until she has an attack in front of the boys and Haymitch tries to take care of her." Here it is! I hope you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 **Effie's Attacks**

"I don't know, Effie, I think your life would be easier if you'd let us take Elle off your hands for a few hours while you catch a nap," Peeta says, bouncing the baby girl on his lap.

"Support her head if you're to bounce her like that," Effie sighs, too used to telling him. "She's only seventeen weeks, she's not old enough to do it herself."

Peeta obediently cradles the little girl's head while Katniss watches with caution. She hasn't so much as held the baby yet, despite her husband's constant pleading for her to bond with the youngest of their team's members. "Okay, I've got her head," Peeta says, then studies Effie. "You and Haymitch haven't had a moment to yourselves in the last five months, you've had a constant flow of doctors, midwives, and technicians in here, and you've had Elle thrown in there, too. You deserve a rest."

"After Willow was born, we grabbed every chance at napping we could get our hands on," Katniss adds.

Effie refrains from pointing out that Willow is the only baby Katniss has ever cared for, and wouldn't know what to do with Elle because she's not hers. and Katniss has never even held her. "Mommy!" Willow screams, running into the kitchen.

"What is it?" Katniss asks, swinging Willow into her arms.

Haymitch comes barrelling in after her, all the doors slamming shut. "Haymitch, what on earth is going on?!" Effie demands, glaring at her husband.

"The geese escaped," Haymitch huffs, exhausted from running. "They tried to get the kid, she has their food, and we had to shut them out. I'll round them up in a bit."

Effie nods, then all the colour drains from her face. Nobody else seems to have noticed, as Willow whimpers "They're mean, Mommy..."

"They just wanted their food, Willow. Grandpa Haymitch wouldn't have let them hurt you," Katniss says.

"Damn right," Haymitch mutters. "Come here, Peanut."

He scoops Elle up from Peeta's lap and kisses her nose. "She's getting big," Peeta chuckles.

"Stuff it, boy, she's still a baby," Haymitch grumbles.

"Babies can be big," Katniss says, with a pointed glance down at Willow.

"How's my Peanut?" he asks, ignoring Katniss and Peeta, and getting a broad smile from his daughter. He smiles back at her, and immediately, everyone's brought up short by a quiet wheeze. "What was that?"

He turns to see Effie rummaging through the cupboards frantically. "Effie, what's wrong?" Peeta asks, too used to the Capitol woman's strange habits.

She doesn't say a word, just lets out another wheezing gasp. Haymitch walks over to her and asks "Princess, what's up? Can't you breathe?"

"No!" Effie wheezes. "Inhaler..."

"What's an inhaler?" Haymitch asks softly. "Make sense, sweetheart."

"Tea..." Effie gasps. "No... Inhaler... Tea..."

Katniss, having seen this before in her mother's kitchen, springs into action, dropping Willow on Peeta. "I'm going to look for her inhaler. Haymitch, sit her down, get her some tea," she orders.

Haymitch wraps his free arm around Effie and guides her to the kitchen table, sitting her down. To her credit, Effie sits as straight as she can without any prompting, and tries to breathe slowly. Haymitch lies their baby girl down in the bassinet, then looks to Peeta. "Will you make her some tea?" he asks, rubbing Effie's shoulders and upper back. Elle starts whimpering, not sure what's happening around her, and Effie startles. "It's okay, Effie, she's just confused, we'll sort her out in a minute."

She gives him a reproachful look, and he sighs, reluctantly letting go of her to pick Elle up. He gives her to Effie, who smiles and kisses the little girl's head, despite the light-headed feeling it gives her. She straightens up and tries to breathe, the sound strained and wheezy. Katniss runs back in with a blue inhaler and hands it to Effie. "Here you go, Effie," she gasps, breathless herself from running. "You know how to use it, yeah?"

Effie nods and slowly puffs on the inhaler, taking no chances with it. She times each puff on the inhaler herself, distracting herself from the pain by watching her baby, and slowly, she starts to breathe easily again. She accepts the tea from Peeta, slowly drinking it, not daring to speak yet. Her breathing eases back into its usual pattern, and Haymitch asks "Mind telling me what _that_ was, Princess?"

"Um," Effie starts, blushing a little. "Well..."

She sips more tea, her eyes on Elle. She smiles a little at her, getting a bright smile in return, then Peeta says "In your own time, Effie."

She gives him a warm smile, then drops her gaze back to Elle. "Well, I'll admit that I haven't exactly been honest with you all," she says softly.

"Effie, what just happened?" Haymitch asks, his voice dangerously quiet.

"I told you after my first check up when I came here that I'm okay," Effie says. "I lied a little. I'm mostly okay, but I have a respiratory condition called asthma, which is marked by spasms of bronchi in the lungs. What you just witnessed and so helpfully aided was an asthma attack. It must have been either dust, or something from outside. Is it pollen season?"

"No," Katniss says. "Might have been the geese, their feathers are all over Willow."

Haymitch says "The geese are going if they're going to hurt Effie." He then glares at her and asks "Why didn't you tell me when you found out that you've got this?"

"Because I came to you full of problems that I couldn't handle, and this one I thought I could handle. I have handled it this far," she says, not wanting to look like she's intimidated.

"Effie, from what I just saw, this could kill you," Haymitch growls. "You should have said something. What if you'd had an attack like this, didn't have your inhaler, and you were all alone? What if Elle's got it? This could be dangerous to both you _and_ her."

"If Elle has it, we would deal with it," Effie says. "I wouldn't let her hide it."

" _You_ shouldn't hide it!" Haymitch bellows, upsetting Elle. The baby starts to whimper and Effie gives Haymitch a dark look before kissing their baby's nose. "Don't give me that look, Effie, this is serious!"

"He's right, Effie," Katniss says. "My mom had women come to see her, and most of them died in our kitchen because Mom couldn't fix this. You should have told us."

"They've both got points," Peeta tells her gently. "If Katniss hadn't understood the problem, you probably would have suffocated or something. You should have said something, we would have been able to help you faster."

Effie drops her gaze to the floor and shifts uncomfortably. "Did you all think that I would land you with a problem like this? I've already layered so many more of my own issues onto you all, why would I put this on you?" she asks.

"We're your family," Peeta says. "We're meant to help you with _all_ of your problems, especially life-threatening ones."

"Not to mention how it could affect the baby," Katniss says. "It might be genetic, and she may have it."

"The doctors will tell us," Effie says quietly, her gaze fixed on the ground.

"You really should have told us," Haymitch tells her, much more calmly now that he's had time to relax a little.

"You know now," she replies quietly. "That's what counts. Now you know, and I have had Elle checked many times for asthma whenever I'm alone in the house with her. I take her to the clinic and have them run tests. She's clear. Now, can we discuss what the four of you want for dinner?"

Elle, truly her father's daughter, turns her face to her mother's chest. "Well, I guess we've figured out what Peanut wants," Peeta jokes.

"That's the Abernathy part of her," Effie hums, her voice softer than usual. "Now, for the ones of you old enough for solids, what do you want?"

Taking the chance to avoid Effie's tears, the three adults and little Willow jump in to suggest what they'd like to eat, and Effie quickly regrets asking.

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. If you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. This was really fun for me to write, and I hope it wasn't too confusing. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	37. Zanna

_Hello! Two updates in one day, it's miraculous. Well, here's our second prompt of the day from a Guest reader: Can you please do one when Effie is pregnant and Haymitch cheats on her before he knew? You choose the ending!_

 _Well, here it is! I hope you like this._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play around with her characters._**

 **Zanna**

"Congratulations, Mrs Abernathy, you're twelve weeks pregnant."

The words ring through Effie's head on a loop. _A baby. Me. Oh, no, how will I tell Haymitch?_ she thinks, desperation seizing her. How can she _possibly_ tell him that she's going to have his baby? _Maybe it'll be a positive outcome,_ she thinks desperately. _After all,_ _he wants a baby, and he might be happy that I'm going to have his child._ Somehow, she doubts that, and feels sick as she walks up the street to their house. She carefully makes her way through the mess, and opens her mouth to call for Haymitch. Before any sound escapes her mouth, she hears a woman laugh from upstairs, and Haymitch chuckling "Got you."

She removes her heels and ventures upstairs, anger and betrayal rushing through her body. She pads upstairs, dreading what she'll find, then peeks into Haymitch's bedroom. She sees a tall, slim brunette woman on the bed, her back to the door, and wearing nothing at all. The woman asks "What do you think, Mitch? Better than your Capitol girl?"

"By far," Haymitch chuckles, and Effie seethes with rage. _How dare he!_ "She doesn't hold a candle to you."

"No, but I might hold a knife," Effie growls from the door. Both Haymitch and his secret girlfriend freeze. "How long has _this_ been going on?"

"Effie, this isn't what it looks like," Haymitch says from underneath the woman.

Effie lifts an eyebrow, seeing that he's very much naked, and his length is deeply buried inside the woman on top of him. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, this looks a _lot_ like you're having sex with a woman who is _not_ me, and by extension, is not your wife. That, my _darling_ Haymitch, is called _cheating_. You are having an affair," she snarls.

"Effie, it's not as bad as that," Haymitch starts.

"You can roll the dirt in sugar, but that won't turn it into a cake," Effie dismisses. "You have been unfaithful to me, and from this level of comfort and trust, it is not the first time. I shall have to get checked for diseases now, I don't know what I've caught from you and your tramp. I cannot _believe_ my own stupidity. All the men I have ever been with are the same. Expect divorce papers."

She turns on her heel and storms out, closing the door behind her. She runs down the stairs and grabs her heels, slipping them on as Haymitch starts to follow her down the stairs. She runs out of the house and down the street. "Effie!" Haymitch bellows.

She runs faster, gasping a little. She makes it to the train station before Haymitch finally catches her up. He grabs her arm, only to have her rip herself from his grasp. "No!" she snaps. "You do _not_ get to touch me! Who knows what you have now that you've had everything all over that disgusting tramp! I may not have a high opinion of myself, but even _I_ know that I deserve better than that!"

"Yeah, you do," Haymitch gasps breathlessly. "And I deserve a chance to explain myself."

"I already know what you're going to say! I've had a lot of men cheat on me, and they've all come up with the same five sad excuses!" she screams. "They've all said that they were paid, that I wasn't enough in any of the respects they needed, that they were forced into it and weren't, that I've been distant, or that they wanted to see what else there was! I may be an idiot, but I do learn from my mistakes!"

"Effie, it really isn't like that!" Haymitch snaps. "She's getting married tomorrow, and she threatened you! My choice was have her hurt you, or have sex with her! She had all the information she needed, she had everything she needed, and I wasn't about to risk you!"

She scoffs and shoves him away from her. "How stupid do you think I am?! You could have just told me the truth! You're tired of me, and you wanted better! I would have been much less angry with you if you'd just come right out and said it, but you decided to sneak around behind my back!" she shouts. "There I was, thinking you were different, but you're just as slimy as the rest of them! I won't take this any more, Haymitch! Go back to your tramp! I'll get the children to send me my possessions back!"

Haymitch pulls her close and kisses her gently, holding her to him with one hand in her hair and one on her back. She freezes, becoming unresponsive and cold, unwilling to relent. He presses her closer, then stops dead. He breaks away a little, looking her over. "Effie," he whispers, his eyes widening.

She backs away instinctively, her hand rising to cover her stomach. "If you _dare_ to come near me again, Haymitch Abernathy, I will call the authorities," she warns, her eyes flashing. "It's bad enough that you've been cheating on me, and probably were before the baby happened, but I won't have you pretending that you want my baby just to keep me around while you're off with whomever you please."

"Effie, I didn't have a clue that you're pregnant," he gulps. "You can't just leave... The baby will ask who its dad is."

"By the time this baby is old enough to ask me, I will have remarried, and you will be nothing to either of us," she snarls, glaring daggers at him. "You know, you were the last person I _ever_ expected this from. That's why I trusted you enough to fall pregnant in the first place."

A loud gasping sound comes from behind them, and Effie's eyes narrow on the woman she'd caught in bed with Haymitch. "Found you," the woman gasps.

"You're welcome to him, you filthy maggot," Effie hisses. "Soon enough, he'll be divorced and _free_ to be yours."

"Look, this was a one-time thing," the woman gasps, showing Effie a sparkly diamond ring. "I'm getting married tomorrow, this is my last day of freedom. My fiance's been trying to find you. He wants you, I wanted Abernathy here."

"Unlike this horrible excuse of a man, I would have turned your fiance down, because _I_ respected my marriage vows," Effie growls. "As it stands, this marriage is over, and he's free to do as he pleases."

"Effie, come on, don't," Haymitch pleads.

"Save it, you'll want your breath for _her_ ," Effie scoffs.

"What's going on?" Peeta asks, on his way home from the bakery.

"Haymitch is a cheating scumbag, this disgusting maggot is no better, and I'm going home," Effie sums up, glaring at Haymitch. "Peeta, be a love, send me my possessions when you get the chance."

"Actually, Effie, come with me," Peeta says, extending his hand to her.

Effie hesitates at the offer. "I really should go," she says softly.

Peeta grabs her hand. "Come on, Effie," he insists.

She follows him to the Village and into his home. Haymitch follows, but Peeta glares at him. Effie growls "Go away, Haymitch. You should know when you're not wanted," and tugs Peeta into the house, locking the door behind her.

Peeta leads her into the kitchen, then sits her down. "Effie, while I know that what he did is wrong, and it hurt you deeply, I think you need to know something important before you leave Haymitch," he tells her gently.

"You should know something equally important," Effie whispers.

"Go on," Peeta urges, watching her closely.

"I am pregnant," she tells him. "I found out about twenty minutes before I found out that Haymitch has been seeing that tramp behind my back."

Peeta softens and hugs her. "Well, congratulations," he says, stroking her hair. "You'll be a great mom."

"Thank you," Effie sighs, hugging him back, welcoming the comforting embrace. "Now, what were you telling me?"

"About her, the tramp," Peeta replies, breaking the hug to look up at Effie. "She's bad news. She's been coming on to Haymitch for months, and every time she did, he rejected her advances, he's only ever wanted you. I've seen this happen, and he's always been adamant that he has a wife and loves her too much to cheat. She did this to Katniss and me, and Katniss was livid. See, this woman made the mistake of hitting on me in front of Katniss, and Katniss beat her up."

"Good for her," Effie mutters.

"Yeah," Peeta chuckles. "Now, Zanna's gone for Haymitch because she knows he's married. She threatened Katniss to try to persuade me to sleep with her, and I'm guessing she would have done the same to Haymitch. Haymitch really doesn't have much of an excuse for cheating on you, and his actions don't deserve your forgiveness. Katniss took a long while to convince into forgiving me, and Zanna didn't even get as far as a kiss."

"Good on you, you stuck it out," Effie praises.

"Yeah," Peeta says slowly. "But Haymitch lost more than I ever have, and he's determined that he won't lose you. Zanna is dangerous, Effie. He won't have agreed to see her if it wasn't for her threat to your safety. She's got a criminal record that makes Snow look like he'd never hurt a fly. You really were unsafe, and Haymitch would have taken the safest route for you. I get it if you still want to leave him, because it hurts to be betrayed. But if you want to stay with him, you need to understand that he won't cheat on you for his own pleasure. He just wants you safe."

Effie thinks back to before the war, how many times she'd slept with other men and women behind Haymitch's back to protect him, and how often he'd told her off for doing so, but how he'd never once left her. _How different is it, really?_ a treacherous little voice in the back of her mind asks. _The villain is different, the situation is not. You did it to him, and he's done it to you, all in the name of safety._ "I should talk to him," Effie whispers. "I should hear him out. He used to do it for me."

Peeta nods. "That's all you can do. But if he does it again, you're going to have to leave him," he says.

"I know," Effie sighs. "I'm going to force him to have a disease check."

Peeta chuckles as the woman stands. "Good plan," he chuckles. "Don't let him walk all over you, though."

"I won't," Effie huffs, then hugs him. "I'll see you soon."

"Good luck," Peeta replies, then walks Effie to the door. He watches her go back over to Haymitch's house and disappear inside, hoping that everything works out for the better.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, there we go. Let me know what you thought, if you have prompts, if you have anything you'd like to point out, and if you want to get in touch with me, my Twitter is BlackCatS46. Story news is posted there, so please go check that out. Okay, until next time, Cat. xoxo**_


	38. Priorities

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from Guest, who requested via review: "Can Effie be pregnant in 13 and go into labor when Haymitch is in command and he tells her that Katniss comes before her and the baby? Can you pick the ending?" Here it is! I hope you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 **Priorities**

"Look, I don't want her to go on the front lines," Haymitch sighs, rubbing his hand over his face wearily.

"She needs to be out there," Coin argues. "The people need to see her out fighting."

"Madam President, all due respect to you here, but I'm not ready to fight with you on this. I have a wriggly, heavily pregnant woman sharing my bed at night, and her feet are blocks of ice that jam themselves where they don't belong all night, and that makes sleeping hard. I'm too tired to fight you, and I'm responsible for Katniss's life here, so _no_ , she's not going out there," Haymitch sighs.

"This revolution-" Coin starts, but Haymitch speaks over her.

"Would drown out if Katniss isn't alive any more to stir the pot," he finishes loudly. "You send her out there, she gets killed, you lose your best asset."

Coin opens her mouth to fight back, and Haymitch releases a silent prayer to the gods above him that the door bangs open and Effie staggers in, supported only by tiny Primrose Everdeen. "Haymitch," Effie gasps. "Darling, it's time, we need to head to the hospital."

"What?" Haymitch asks, staring at Effie as she doubles over a little more.

"Her contractions are only seven minutes apart," Prim says, her small form supporting Effie without a hitch. "Are you coming to the hospital?"

"There's no question that he is," Effie whines. "I _will not_ deliver this child without him."

"You have to," Haymitch tells her.

"I _won't_!" Effie shouts, her face scrunching up with pain. "You are this baby's father, and my birthing partner. I need you there."

"Katniss needs me here," Haymitch says, shrugging. "You'll have to make do with doctors."

Effie's eyes narrow into slits. "I think she'll survive an hour or two while you come and help me get the baby you so _kindly_ put into me _out_ of me," she snarls, her face contorting and her knees giving way.

"I'm needed here," Haymitch says calmly. "You go on, I'll come and see you later."

"You can either come with me _now_ , or you can take this as the last time you'll ever see me again," Effie hisses furiously. "I will _not_ let you miss the birth of your firstborn child so that you can hate-flirt with a politician!"

"Effie, you need the hospital," Haymitch tells her. "Katniss's life hangs on this. Yours can be protected if you go and get seen to like you need to be."

Effie glowers at him, then snarls "So she's more important to you than your own flesh and blood?"

"At this moment in time, that baby isn't about to die, so _yeah_ , Katniss is more important than either you or the baby are right now!" Haymitch bellows, finally losing his temper with her.

Effie, with a sudden flash of fury, hobbles over to him and punches him hard in the junk. "I hope you never have the ability to do this to another woman, you horrible excuse of a man!" she screeches, then hobbles back to Prim with death in her glare. "Come on, dear, I do believe that this little darling won't wait any longer."

Haymitch sags as soon as the door slams shut. "Happy now?" he growls at Coin. "Your stubbornness toward Katniss just cost me the only chance I'll ever get to watch my kid come into the world and my relationship."

* * *

Over in the hospital, Effie is sobbing into a pillow and refusing to let anyone near her. "Do you want me to hold your hand?" Prim offers softly.

"No," Effie sobs.

"How about some morphling?" the young girl offers. "It'll make the pain bearable."

"No!" Effie wails. "I don't want anything other than this baby out!"

"You're doing extremely well," Flora Everdeen says, trying to be reassuring. "Your baby's shoulders are nearly out now."

She rests her hands on Effie's ankles, and Effie, true to her nature, screams "Take your hands _off_ me!"

Flora immediately releases her grip on Effie and kindly says "My apologies, Miss Trinket." Minutes later, and a few pushes on Effie's part, Flora looks to Prim and asks "Would you get me a blanket, dear?"

Prim nods and grabs a blanket, handing it over to her mother. Flora carefully lifts and wraps the newborn baby, then carries the baby to Effie. "Is my baby okay?" Effie asks worriedly.

"She's wonderful," Flora tells her. "Absolutely perfect. Congratulations."

Prim removes the placenta from the table quietly, unnoticed by Effie, whose entire mnd is full of her newborn baby. "My perfect baby," she whispers, enchanted by her baby.

The newborn blinks slowly at her mother, her tiny mouth moving slightly. "Do you know how you're going to feed her?" Prim asks softly while her mother examines Effie.

"I have attended classes," Effie says hurriedly, too busy being concerned by her baby to care about anyone else. "I get the gist of it. I'm sure she won't have a problem figuring food out, given who her father is. She'll be fine."

A few minutes later, Flora asks "Miss Trinket, I need to examine your baby, would you mind me taking her for a moment?"

Effie's face shadows and her lips purse, but she nods, giving the baby a kiss on the nose. "I love you, baby girl," she whispers. "Don't hurt her, please."

"I promise you that your baby is in good hands," Flora chuckles, taking the newborn to a table near her mother. Effie keeps as close a watch on them as she can, wanting to hold her baby again. It takes a solid forty minutes before the baby is given back, her cord cut and tied, washed, a diaper on, and a fresh blanket around her. "There you go. Your little princess is in perfect health, and she's ready to stay with you."

"Thank you," Effie breathes, pressing another kiss to her baby's nose. "Hello, beautiful girl."

* * *

An hour later, Effie's got the baby in a sleep suit and a soft blanket, happily cuddling her close while a nurse hovers close by in case Effie starts to bleed or something happens to the baby. Effie's happily relaxed and is stroking the newborn's cheek, smiling a little. "You have such soft, peachy cheeks, darling. You're the softest, most wonderful thing I've ever seen," she whispers happily. "You're so beautiful and lovely, my perfect little girl. Yes you are. You're my everything."

The door opens and Haymitch peeks in. "Eff?" he asks, stepping inside as quietly as he can. "How did it go?"

"What's it to you?" Effie asks icily, her warmth and joy freezing in their tracks.

"Well, you're my girl, and that's my kid, I have rights to worry," he says plainly, as if it's obvious.

"Oh, like you were _so_ worried when I was about to deliver your child in the doorway of your beloved Command room?" Effie scoffs. "Get out, Haymitch, you're not wanted here."

"Who was the one demanding that I abandon everything to be here?" he huffs. "I got away as quickly as I could."

"You told me that the baby and I are unimportant to you!" she snaps. "I had to go through all of that _alone!_ Now you don't have to choose who matters more to you, because there's only Katniss and Peeta for you to worry about."

"Effie, don't be like that, you know that I have to keep those kids alive," Haymitch groans.

"I do, and now you can do that without me hindering you," Effie hisses. "You're free to care about the kids, you're free to hate-flirt with Coin, whatever you like. At least you won't be able to reproduce with Coin. She's not someone I want my baby girl to have a half-sibling by."

"Girl?" Haymitch asks in disbelief. "We have a daughter?"

" _I_ have a daughter," Effie huffs. "You're having nothing to do with her. She doesn't matter enough to you for that. Now get out of here, I don't want to see you again."

"I didn't say that she doesn't matter at all, I said that right in that instance, you and she were not a priority," Haymitch grumbles. "You both matter to me, and you know it."

"We don't matter _enough_ to you. You missed her birth and told me that we're unimportant to you. That's the most horrible thing you've ever done to either of us, and you're never getting the chance to do worse. Now _leave_ ," Effie snarls. "If you stay, I'll get angrier, and that'll disturb my baby."

The nurse grabs Haymitch and gently pushes him. "You heard her, you have to leave. She's delicate right now, and she doesn't need to be distressed. Leave," the nurse orders.

* * *

Haymitch waits for days in his and Effie's bunk, waiting for her to return. She eventually steps in, the newborn tucked in her arms, and a bag of baby clothes and diapers on her shoulder. The newborn is sleeping, cuddled up to her mother, and Haymitch can only see a chubby little cheek and a fist over Effie's protective hold. He stands and Effie jumps a mile. Her look of surprise morphs rapidly when she places him, and a stony glare settles on her face. "Why are _you_ here and not holed up with your latest toy? Aren't you satisfied with the hurt you've already put me through?" she asks, covering the baby's ears and hiding her more from Haymitch's view in one go.

"Effie, you're being really unreasonable," Haymitch sighs. "I know that I should have gone with you. I wanted to. But Coin was about to throw Katniss into the middle of battle with next to no training. I know Flora and Prim, and I know that they wouldn't ever let anything happen to you or Peanut. Katniss's life was in danger, Effie, I couldn't let Coin throw her to the wolves. If it'd been some stupid strategy meeting, I would have walked out. You know me, Effie, I wouldn't let you go through that alone unless it was a matter of life or death."

"What about telling me that my baby and I are unimportant? I can't let my daughter grow up feeling like she doesn't matter to her own father. What kind of life is that for a child? If I let her near you, she'll love you as much as I have, and to know that you don't consider her important will devastate her. I don't want my baby to go through that," she tells him icily. The baby wakes and whimpers softly, gearing up to cry. Effie softens instantly and cuddles her baby close, stroking her head and cheeks. "Shh, baby girl, it's all okay. You're with Mama, you're okay. Are you a hungry princess?"

The baby stops and makes a sucking noise, and Effie immediately sits down, unbuttoning her jumpsuit. She helps her baby latch on, then smiles warmly as the baby begins to eat. Haymitch asks "What do you want me to do, Eff? I can't change what happened, and you know that. You also know that you and the little one are the most important people in the world to me. I had to put someone other than you first for once. It's really selfish of you to hold it against me. I always end up putting you in front of everything and everyone, and the one time I don't do that for a life and death situation, you use it against me."

Effie glares at him, then says "The one time I needed you more than anything else, you left me. You could have told Coin to wait for you, and you didn't. She would have understood that you were needed elsewhere. She had a baby once too. She knows what it's like. But you just left me to the scariest thing I've ever done, and I did it alone. You could have let me down thousands of times before, and none of it would have made any difference. This has made a difference, and it hurt me."

She adjusts the baby, cuddling her close. "Effie, I know it wasn't easy for you, but you have to consider that someone else could have died had I left for you. It's not just about you when the world's at war. I wanted to be with you, and I wanted to help you bring our baby into the world, but I couldn't do it," he sighs. "I get that you're tired and hormonal and all that, but you're being really unreasonable about this. I can't change what happened, and deep down, you know I did the right thing."

"Yes, you did, but that doesn't make the fear I felt go away. It doesn't make the hurting go away. It doesn't change that our baby girl came into this world with only her mother there. It doesn't change the fact that I couldn't have anyone near me or any medication given to me for fear of forgetting anything. I just wanted you, and I was alone in the whole process. You missed the one chance you will ever have to watch your baby come into the world, all because you didn't have it in you to tell Coin to wait for you to return. So yes, I may be selfish, unreasonable, and horrible, but at least I didn't hurt the one I love most over something I could have postponed," Effie sniffs, not daring to let her tears fall.

"Effie, you know I wanted to be there for you," Haymitch says, sitting down opposite her. "I did, and it hurts that I couldn't do it. I made the right decision and I stand by it, but if I could have just walked out and left something less trivial, like strategy, I would have done it. Now you can do one of two things. You can hold this grudge against me forever, or you can let me try my best to make most of this up to you and Peanut."

"Well, as of right now, I'm still very upset with you," she whispers. "So I'll let you make as much up to me as you can, but I refuse to give you kisses, cuddles, or a human heater for your bed until the hurting stops. I'm not going to sleep in your bed, or give you anything affectionate until I feel better."

"Okay," he says, relief flooding him. "As long as I've still got you and Peanut, I don't care what sort of punishment you think up for me. I'm okay with that."

"Peanut's name is _Elle_ ," Effie sighs. "I wanted her to have a name as beautiful as she is. That's as close as I could get. Nothing's as beautiful as her."

Elle squirms and cries, so Effie sits her up, holding her up carefully, cradling her cheeks, then rubs and pats her back to get her wind up. Elle lets out a tiny sound, then yawns. Effie lies her down and kisses her forehead before Haymitch gets his first proper look at his daughter. He startles a little at her, how much of a perfect blend of both himself and Effie their baby actually is. She has his slightly more olive toned skin, his black hair, and his ever-sarcastic expression, but she has Effie's softness, features, and sparkling blue eyes. "She's going to be trouble when she grows up," Haymitch says proudly.

"I know," Effie whispers. "Oh, and I hope you don't mind, she has your surname."

"I don't mind," Haymitch says quietly, unwilling to disturb their baby. "You'll have it too by the time she's a month old."

"Always so sure of yourself," Effie chuckles softly. "Especially when giving the worst marriage proposal I've ever heard."

"Is that a yes?" he asks, smirking.

"That's an obviously, I'll marry you," she laughs, then playfully frowns at him. "But only when I'm ready to give you kisses again."

Haymitch's laughter nearly melts her resolve not to kiss him instantly.

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. If you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. This was such a heartbreaking prompt, and naturally, I loved every second of it. I had a lot of fun writing this, and it is half past four in the morning for me, so my apologies for any mistakes. For ayone curious, I watched a trio of terrifying videos earlier, and while I don't scare easily, these ones are horrifying and I loved them. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	39. Sickness

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from a Guest reader, who requested: "Can you please do one when Effie is pregnant but haymitch doesn't know and he's worried about her because she's all hormonal and has morning sickness? Please!" Here it is! I hope you like how this went._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 _ **Sickness**_

The sound of vomiting is not an unusual one in the Trinket-Abernathy household lately. Either the dysfunctional couple living there will have had a fight the night before that involved either him storming out to the bar or her leaving for a bed and breakfast hotel while he drinks himself to sleep at home, or they had a horrible night of nightmares and drank together until dawn. But last night, as Haymitch recalls, they had been fine. He had slept wonderfully, and Effie had been sleeping on his chest when he'd fallen asleep. Neither of them has cause to be vomiting, unless... The very thought of even thinking the end of that sentence has Haymitch bolting out of bed and running to the bathroom. He finds Effie curled on the floor, pitifully leaning over the toilet, her braided hair coming loose on her back. "Princess?" he asks.

"Put a shirt on, Haymitch, it's coming close to winter," Effie whimpers. "I don't want you to get sick."

"Bit late that for that, isn't it?" Haymitch scoffs. "You're throwing up everything you've eaten in the past twelve hours."

"I am aware of that," she mutters, then throws up again, as if on cue. "But I still say you should put a shirt on."

He rolls his eyes and says "Fine, I'll put a shirt on, but you're seeing a doctor. There's no way that this is good for you."

"And what if I'm perfectly healthy?" Effie asks quietly, hoping he won't hear her.

In true Haymitch fashion, he hears her from the doorway. "If you're supposedly healthy, then you're making yourself sick for some reason," he replies, and he worries about that, too. He makes a fast dash for a shirt to wear, picking a flannel one and a robe. He pulls on the flannel shirt, taking the robe to Effie. She's gagging and heaving, but there's nothing left to come up. After a minute, she sags, and Haymitch lifts her with one arm, wrapping her in the robe. He closes the toilet lid and flushes the vomit down. "Sit there."

He places her down carefully and washes his hands, dries them off, and lifts Effie, holding her while she washes her own hands. He kisses the top of her head softly, his hands resting on her waist. "Haymitch, I'm fine now," she whispers. "Truly. I'm just a bit hungry, that's all."

Frowning, Haymitch scoops her up and carries her back to bed, tucking her in. "Okay, you get breakfast," he says, then kisses her forehead. "What do you want?"

She thinks for a second, then lights up. "I think we should have pancakes!" she squeaks eagerly.

"You don't even like pancakes," he reminds her.

"Yes, but I'm really craving pancakes. Please? Please? Please?" she begs, giving him the puppy eyes. "I'll do anything you want, I'll even make them myself."

"No!" Haymitch all but shrieks, true fear piercing his soul. He takes a deep breath, trying to relax himself. The memory of Effie's last venture in the kitchen will never leave him. It's even in his nightmares. His voice is calmer when he next speaks. "No, I'll make them. You're the one who's sick. Pancakes it is. What drink are you having?"

"Please may I have berry juice?" she asks, a little unnerved by his sudden and strong reaction to her offer to cook. To her, that cooking experience hadn't gone that badly. Certainly better than when she'd first lived alone, at any rate.

"Sure," Haymitch replies, his heart rate slowing down a bit now. He strokes her hair lightly, then softly kisses her nose. "Don't move."

"Staying," Effie purrs, snatching his pillow and burying her face in it while Haymitch leaves to make the breakfast. She hums happily, enjoying the warm scent of Haymitch.

* * *

Downstairs, Haymitch is terrified. He can't stand the idea of Effie getting sick, it might be worse than he thinks. He panics more, hoping that he's wrong, that it's just a bug that's going around, that Effie's going to be just fine. _But what if she's not?_ floats across his mind, the tone cruelly gloating at him. _If she's fatally ill, she will die feeling that she's nothing to you but a way to keep your bed warm._ "Haymitch?" a male voice asks, interrupting Haymitch's increasingly darkening thoughs. "Where's Effie?"

It takes everything Haymitch has not to break down there and then, worry for Effie flooding through him. He keeps his voice firm and steady as he says "She's got a bug, she's in bed."

"Oh. Well, I brought some mint tea. She asked for it yesterday, she said it could soothe her nausea," Peeta says.

"She knew she was sick yesterday?" Haymitch asks, turning to the younger man. "Why didn't she say anything?"

Peeta shrugs. "She hates scaring you," he says. "Just give her some of this if she's still feeling a bit gross later."

Haymitch nods, then asks "Are you going to bring Katniss here for breakfast?"

"No, she's been gone since six, she's hunting," Peeta says.

"Are you staying?" Haymitch asks, studying the boy.

"Thanks, but no," Peeta replies, disappointment in his tone. "Bakeries don't run themselves, and I need to replenish my stocks."

"Okay, boy. I'll stop by later, pick up some pastries for Effie," Haymitch tells him, setting the food on a tray and picking it up. "You know what she's like."

Peeta chuckles, then nods. "Okay. If she's up to it, bring her along. She might like some fresh air," he says.

Haymitch nods and makes his way back up to Effie. He spots her snuggled up in a nest of blankets, one hand resting against her stomach, and one under her cheek, her eyes closed. He smiles at how peaceful she looks, despite the nagging fear of her being so sick that she'll die. He walks over and gently shakes her shoulder, then places the tray of food on the bedside table. He carefully wakes her and kisses her nose. "Wake up, sweetheart," he whispers.

She opens her eyes and stretches, yawning a little. Haymitch smiles, finding her too adorable. "Hi," Effie hums, wriggling. "How long was I asleep?"

"About twenty minutes," he replies, giving her a kiss on the nose. "Not very long. I brought your pancakes."

"Ooh, thank you!" she squeaks, sitting up. "I'm hungry now."

Haymitch chuckles and kisses her cheeks, then places a plate of pancakes on her lap, having covered them in fruit and syrup. She smiles and waits for him to be sat with her and his own food before she digs in. She eats the pancakes with more enthusiasm than she's ever shown with her food, and Haymitch smiles. "Good to see you with an appetite for a change, Princess," he remarks fondly.

"I'm going to get hungry again soon," she warns him, but there's a smile on her face. She finishes her pancake stack before he finishes his, and eagerly gulps down her juice, relief spreading over her face. She lies down and smiles at the ceiling. "Now I feel good."

"That's my girl," Haymitch chuckles, patting her stomach softly.

"Gently," Effie hums. "I've just eaten, and I liked that meal."

Haymitch chuckles, then says "I'm glad you enjoyed it. It's the first time you've cleared your plate in a year."

"I know," Effie sighs happily. She waits for him to finish eating and drinking before she pulls him down next to her. "I need snuggles, and I'm guessing that you do too."

He laughs and holds her close, kissing her cheeks. "Okay, snuggles it is," he says, petting her hair. "Do you feel sick still?"

"No," she murmurs, snuggling up to him. "I feel good."

"Good," Haymitch sighs. "So how come you were sick?"

"Reasons," Effie whispers. "I have good reasons."

"Are you getting your period?" he asks worriedly. "Do I need to buy tampons?"

"Not for another six or seven months," she giggles. "You need to be more worried about buying decaf coffee."

"Why decaf? Are you sick?" he asks, getting frantic again.

"Well, I got a parasitic STD from you," she laughs.

"I don't have any STDs, let alone parasitic ones," Haymitch huffs, insulted.

"Well, you have the male half of it, I have the female half," Effie giggles. "It made a very cute, very lovable parasite that I now have to grow and eventually push out."

Haymitch's heart sinks. "It won't kill you, will it?" he asks. "Is there a surgery we can get for you?"

"It's okay, I won't die," she laughs. "Surgery is a last resort if it refuses to come out."

"What is it?" Haymitch asks, cuddling her.

She studies him, wondering if he's just playing dumb or if he really hasn't pieced it together yet. When she sees that he really doesn't understand, she laughs at him and grabs his hand. "Well, darling, Mama has some news for you," she giggles.

"Why are you referring to yourself as Mama?" he asks, still caught up in the fear of her dying.

She kisses him and chuckles "I really love you, you clueless man."

"Obviously, you haven't killed me yet," he says. "Just put me out of my misery, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Effie says proudly, then brings his hand to her lips so that she can kiss his knuckles. "You're going to be a daddy. That's why I've been sick, and why I wanted pancakes, and why I said Mama instead of I. We have six or seven months to prepare for our baby's arrival."

He laughs, relieved that she's okay, then kisses her lips gently. "You scared me," he whispers. "I thought you were going to die."

"I'm too annoying to die," she giggles. "Are you happy that you're a father?"

"Yeah, of course," Haymitch murmurs, squeezing her gently. He thinks back, then asks "Why did you call our baby a parasitic STD?"

Effie's laughter can be heard four streets away.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Hello! I hope you liked reading that as much as I liked writing it.**_

 _ **Well, that said, if you have anything you'd like to see, comment the ideas below, send them via PM/review on Fanfiction, the username's the same there, or you can tweet or DM me on Twitter, under the username BlackCatS46. Until next time. Cat xxx**_


	40. Telling the Kids

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from Guest, who requested: "Can you please do a sequel to chapter 39? Like an announcement to katniss and peseta?" My answer is yes, I can, and here it is! I hope you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 _ **Telling the Kids**_

Peeta pulls Katniss closer, kissing her just a little more passionately, completely oblivious for once to the couple making their way into the living room, even though they're speaking loudly in comparison to their usual soft tones. "I don't know, Haymitch, I think it may be too soon," Effie says gently.

"When will you want to tell them? It's not going to be subtle forever," Haymitch scoffs.

The couple enter the living room and spot the younger couple lying comfortably on the sofa, making out with an intensity that rivals that of their own. "Oh, my!" Effie squeals, covering Haymitch's eyes and her stomach, her own eyes squeezed shut, turning away. "Haymitch, turn around!"

Haymitch bursts out laughing, pushing Effie's hand off his eyes. "Did you two forget that we were coming for dinner?" he asks, chuckling.

"Haymitch!" Effie squeaks. "Turn away! We are sorry, children, we didn't know that you were... _Occupied_. We will... We shall leave you to it."

Peeta clambers away from Katniss, who sits up, looking a little bit rumpled. "No, no, you can stay," Peeta hurries to reassure her. "We lost track of time."

"I'll bet you did," Haymitch chuckles.

"What put you in a good mood?" Katniss asks sourly. "Effie, you can turn around, we're not kissing any more."

Effie peeks over her shoulder, then turns back around slowly. "Okay," she sighs. "We are sorry, children. I should have called first. This was terribly ill mannered of us."

"They have no room to complain," Haymitch scoffs. "It's a miracle you and I get any time to do anything with them always walking in. It's a refreshing change to do this to them."

Effie groans and leans her head on Haymitch's shoulder. "Why am I still with you? You're so annoying," she huffs.

"I was amazed that you ever decided to live with Haymitch," Katniss mutters, disgruntled by their interruption of her and Peeta.

"Well, thanks. Nice to feel loved," Haymitch deadpans, then round on Effie. "Nobody's holding you captive, Trinket. If you're unhappy, you can leave whenever you like."

"I'm not unhappy with you," Effie says, hugging him tightly. "I've said it before and I'll say it again; I will not leave you unless you kick me out. I love you too much to leave you. The proof is in the peanut."

Haymitch chuckles and Katniss sullenly corrects "The phrase is _the proof is in the pudding,_ Effie, not in the peanut."

"This time, the proof is actually a peanut," Effie says proudly. "Do you think now is a good time, Haymitch?"

"Sure, sweetheart," Haymitch sighs, stroking her hair. "Go on, explain."

"You do it," Effie says. "I'll have to tell my mom. You deserve the fun telling. Go on."

He lifts an eyebrow, the thought of Effie dealing with her mother making him feel that _she_ deserves to tell the kids for merely _thinking_ of telling her mother. "You sure?" he asks, petting her gently.

"Yes, go on. You said they deserve to know, and I don't want to ruin it," Effie says, snuggling up to him. It's the way she cuddles him, hiding away a little, that alerts him to her nervousness at being rejected. "You do it."

Haymitch nods, then kisses her. "What does she mean, _the proof is actually a peanut?_ " Peeta asks.

"What was that conversation?" Katniss asks, looking as clueless as ever.

Haymitch glances at Effie, who nods, her eyes wide with fear. He takes in a breath, then faces the kids, a massive grin on his face. "Well, you two, I hope you're ready to be honorary older siblings, because our favourite little Princess is pregnant," he says proudly, gently squeezing Effie.

"What?!" Katniss demands. "Really?!"

"Yes, really!" Effie giggles. "We're having a baby!"

Peeta rushes over and hugs the older couple close. "Congratulations!" he chuckles. "This is fantastic news!"

Katniss gapes. "Wait, did you just say that _Effie's_ pregnant? _Our_ Effie?" she asks incredulously.

"Do you know another Effie?" Haymitch asks. "Yeah, our Effie."

Katniss's jaw drops. "But... Effie's pregnant?" she asks, dumbfounded.

"I know you're slow, sweetheart, but even you can keep up with this," Haymitch chuckles condescendingly. He nudges Effie into Katniss's line of sight. "This pretty little thing is our Effie."

"I'm not blind," Katniss huffs.

"Haymitch, you're being rude," Effie sighs.

Ignoring them both, Haymitch points to Effie's tiny baby bump. "And in _here_ is an even _smaller_ pretty thing," he says proudly. "Got it? There's a tiny human residing inside this tiny human."

Effie and Peeta burst out laughing, and Katniss manages a smile. "She's like the second smallest nesting doll," Katniss says quietly.

Haymitch laughs properly at that. "Yeah, she is. The only thing smaller than her barely fits inside her," he chuckles.

"This calls for celebration," Peeta laughs. "Who wants a takeout?"

Haymitch and Katniss immediately raise their hands, and Effie smiles. Peeta nods and leaves to order the takeout, then Effie asks "Katniss, may I use your bathroom? My adorable parasite is squashing my bladder."

Katniss nods, then grins cheekily. "Sure... _Small stuff_ ," she says smugly. Effie scrunches her nose up at her playfully, then pretends to storm out in a huff while Haymitch and Katniss laugh at her.

Privately, Effie admits to herself that she'd been worried about Katniss and Peeta being angry at her for having a baby, having expected them to be livid that the woman who had cost them so much is gaining something miraculous. She chastises herself silently for ever having been so silly. Katniss and Peeta love her and Haymitch, and she feels a newfound confidence that they will love a combination of them even more. The idea makes her smile. A new addition to their little family will be perfect.

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. If you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. This was such a fun prompt, and naturally, I loved every second of it. I had a lot of fun writing this, haha. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	41. A Father's Worry

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from Guest, who requested: "Can you please do a sequel to chapter 36?" Here it is! I hope you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 ** _A Father's Worry_**

It's silent, and that's how he notices it. The soft, quiet wheezing sound that strikes fear into his very core. He turns over and places his hand on his wife's chest, bringing his ear to her mouth. She's breathing peacefully, sleepng soundly, and the reality makes things even worse. There's only one other human being that the noise could be coming from, and that has him bolting out of his bed and to the side of his eighteen weeks old daughter, sleeping in her cradle. She's making soft wheezing sounds, her tiny chest moving a little more jerkily than it should. He scoops her up, blankets and all, and calls the clinic for the doctor on night shift. The sound of his panicked voice snarling at the receptionist wakes his wife, who gets out of bed and approaches him. "Haymitch, what are you doing?" she asks sleepily.

"Listen to our daughter!" Haymitch snaps. Effie listens to their baby, but doesn't react. "I _told_ you that she'd be asthmatic! This is _your_ fault, you should have _said_!"

"Haymitch, you sweet, stupid, lovable man, she has a _cold._ A cold is a _virus_. She's not asthmatic," Effie sighs. "She'll be fine. Now, tell this poor receptionist that you are sorry for having wasted time, and put our baby back in her cradle."

"No! She's going to get checked out!" Haymitch bellows, waking Elle up. "You're not trustworthy! You didn't tell me about _your_ asthma, why would you be honest about hers?!"

"Do you _truly_ believe that I would risk my own baby?!" Effie gasps. "I went through hell and back to bring this child into the world! I would _never_ let anything happen to her!"

She snatches Elle and runs from the house, barefoot and without her coat, only her thin nightgown for her warmth. Haymitch warns the receptionist to be on the lookout for his wife, then runs after her, only pausing to slip on some shoes. He runs after his wife, catching her up as she ascends the clinic's steps. "Effie!" he calls out.

"Hush!" Effie hisses. "I just got Elle back to sleep."

"You're barefoot," he hisses back. "And you came out without a coat on."

"Elle's warm, and we're here to prove to you that she has nothing more than a cold," Effie whispers. "Right now, she is my priority."

"You know that the cold air can trigger your asthma, right?" Haymitch asks, wrapping his arms around her.

"Yes, I do, and I don't particularly care," she snarls, forcing him to let go of her. "I don't want your attempt at being sweet to me, either."

"She's your daughter, and for all I know, it's genetic," Haymitch sighs. "I don't want to lose my daughter."

"I know you don't," Effie says. "If I didn't know that this is a cold, I would worry, but she'll get lots of colds over her lifetime. You should be more worried about me leaving you over being called untrustworthy and told that I would intentionally hurt our child."

"I'll worry about that when I know whether my baby's asthmatic or not," Haymitch grumbles.

The doctor comes to call them in, and asks "Well, Mrs Abernathy, what's the trouble this time?"

"My husband thinks that our daughter's cold virus means she's asthmatic. Would you be so kind as to examine her, just to give my husband some peace of mind?" Effie asks sweetly, smiling at him.

The doctor nods, taking Elle from her mother's arms and the mound of blankets, giving the baby the same examinations she's already had twenty five times since her birth. Eventually, he says "As usual, Miss Abernathy's lungs are just fine. She has a nasty cold, but other than that, she's a very healthy little lady. You have no need to fear, you're doing brilliantly."

"Thank you, Doctor," Effie chirps, beaming as she takes Elle back and wraps her up again. "There we go. Thank you. Now, Haymitch, are you convinced? Our baby is fine, only a cold to her name."

Haymitch nods, relief flooding his body like a warm drink after a walk in the cold. "That's better than what I'd hoped," he says, slumping in his chair. He reaches out and tickles Elle's foot. She's awake now, looking adorably grumpy, and she retracts her foot easily enough. He and Effie stand, thanking the doctor for his time and his examination of their baby before they leave. As they walk home, Effie refusing to let Haymitch hold her, he remembers her threatening to leave him. "Hey, you weren't being serious, were you? About leaving?"

"No," Effie replies, shivering violently. "I wasn't. I'm used to you being horrible to me when you're afraid. If I was going to leave you, I would have done it long before I fell pregnant the first time. As long as you're never horrible or hateful to our baby, I won't leave you."

"You scared me," he mutters. "You never really stop scaring me. Between you and Elle, I might end up just having a heart attack."

"Now, you listen to me," Effie mutters, her shivers warping her speech. "You're not allowed to die on us. You have to stay with us now. I need you to help me with our little baby, and she needs her daddy. Talking of her need for you, you need to take her, I have a horrible feeling that I might drop her."

"I have offered to carry you both," Haymitch sighs. "It still stands."

"No, I will break your back if you pick me up," she says. "Take your baby."

Ignoring that, Haymitch scoops Effie up and carries her bridal style. "You're freezing," he sighs, then takes one of Elle's many warm blankets and gives it to Effie to wrap herself in, smirking as he sees the little foot sleeves that she can put her feet in. She does just that and uses one arm to loop it under Haymitch's arms and pulls the hood over her head, yanking the blanket a little to wrap Elle up a bit. She frees another blanket and wraps it around Haymitch's head and shoulders, holding it closed with her own body and their baby. They make it home and Effie has to let them in, Elle securely resting on her mother's chest. Haymitch gets them to the sofa, then sits down, Effie on his lap, and Elle fast asleep on top of Effie. "There we go. Home, safe and sound."

"And warm," Effie hums. "Very warm."

"Thanks to your weird way of thinking," Haymitch chuckles. "You managed to make yourself a hammock and you gave me a cape of blanket."

"You were cold too," Effie replies. "I had to think of you."

"Effie, you know that I don't want you to move out, right?" he asks softly, kissing her head. "This place isn't a home without you and Peanut."

"I know," Effie whispers. "You tell me every time we fight. I won't leave you, and neither will Elle. We love you, and living with you is our way of life. You're family to us, where we go, you go. We're staying."

Haymitch nods, then kisses Effie's nose. "Now, what was this about _the first time_?" he asks, freeing his hand from under her knees to rest it on her stomach.

"Surprise?" Effie whispers uncertainly, kissing his lips. "I hope you're ready to have two small beings."

"You're like a rabbit," he chuckles. "One baby escapes, and another follows almost immediately after."

"I can't help it if you're a baby-making machine, you know," she giggles. "Besides, we already have one perfect child, who's to say we won't make another perfect little treasure?"

Haymitch chuckles and kisses her gently. "We definitely do make perfect kids," he chuckles. "Think Katniss and Peeta will be happy?"

"Not a chance," Effie giggles. "They'll hate us for filling the Village with babies."

How Elle sleeps through their laughter will forever be a source of mystery to her parents.

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. If you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. I actually had no idea where I was going to take this, so I hope you liked it. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	42. Revenge of the Effie

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from Guest, who requested: "sequel to Zanna?! Please?!" Here it is! I hope you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 ** _Revenge of the Effie_**

Effie steps over the threshold of the house she's come to know as home, wondering if she'll be leaving within the hour or if she'll be staying here for the rest of her life, like she'd originally planned. She walks upstairs to find Haymitch with a pile of boxes, two already full of Effie's possessions. She taps on the door, a lump the size of a golf ball in her throat. "Hey," she says, trying not to choke. "Getting rid of me now?"

"You were the one who wanted to leave," Haymitch replies, too much detachment in his voice for it to be genuine. "I'm just making it easy on you."

"Well, don't," Effie says softly, reaching for him. "I want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you," Haymitch scoffs. "You're leaving anyway."

"I won't leave if you just hear me out. Will you?" Effie asks softly.

"Fine," Haymitch relents, which leads Effie to the conclusion that he doesn't want her to leave him. "But only because it might lead to me actually getting to see my kid."

Effie resists the urge to roll her eyes, then says "I spoke with Peeta. He told me who Zanna is, and why you agreed to see her. He also told me that she'd tried to do the same to him, and he would have done it had Katniss not intervened. I wish I'd intervened when she threatened you, but I was off doing some self-absorbed thing or another. I shouldn't have thrown a tantrum like I did, I know that, but you have to understand that I'm used to being cheated on, and that it looked like you were cheating because you wanted to, not because you were under duress, and it hurt. Now, tell me, do you still want me here? Or should I go and find a new house to raise our baby in? I'll only be at the other side of the District if you tell me to go, and I will allow you to see your child whenever you like, with joint custody when he or she gets old enough to be away from me."

Haymitch blinks, processing everything she's just said, then nods. "Okay," he sighs, running his hands down his face. "Okay. Look, I don't want to lose you, small stuff. I was hoping you wouldn't come home in time to find Zanna, but since you did, you deserve a full explanation."

"Peeta already told me what she did to you," she whispers. "I don't blame you. I blame her, and I will see to it that she doesn't try to wreck our marriage again. However, I do want you to get tested, because a disease will not only affect us, but it will affect our child, too."

Haymitch nods, then says "I'll unpack your stuff. You sit down, it's bad for both of you if you're stood up for too long."

Effie smiles tentatively, then asks "May I hug you?"

He lifts an eyebrow at her, then asks "Uh, since when do you ask for hugs?"

"Since I was horrible to you and you might not want my hugs," she replies quietly, shrugging a little, not quite meeting his gaze.

"Princess, I always want your hugs," Haymitch sighs, stepping closer to her and wrapping his arms around her tiny body. "You're such an idiot sometimes, sweetheart."

"I know," Effie whispers, hugging him tightly. "I must be an idiot to lose you."

* * *

Haymitch has gone to get tested for disease on Effie's orders, and she's pulled on a steel vest to protect her chest and stomach from punches. She's ready to go and sort Zanna out while she's got some Haymitch-free time. She strolls outside, her normal clothes over the top of the steel vest she's wearing, making herself seem vulnerable to any injury. She finds Zanna outside the Hob, and strolls up to her, beaming. "Oh, Zanna, just the person I wanted to see!" she chirps.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Zanna asks, looking Effie over in disgust.

"Just here to see the troll who tried to ruin my kids' marriage and my marriage," Effie says cheerfully. "I must say, you're much uglier up close."

"Not what your husband was saying when I was on top of him," Zanna scoffs.

"Please," Effie giggles, her eyes flashing. "You should know that my husband is much too nice for a mutated horse of your atrocity."

Zanna looks confused for a minute, then understands that she's being insulted. "The thing is, sweet cheeks, I'm clever, kind, trustworthy, and fun to be around. You're shallow, stupid, selfish, deceitful, and boring," she chuckles derisively.

"Well, Zanna, the thing about my deceit is that I never use it on my husband. You did. And I met up with your husband yesterday to tell him all about the antics you've been pulling around the District. He's livid, and he's looking for you. See? I'm honest, unlike you. Your husband could do so much better than you. Did you have to drug him to get him to marry you, or did he agree under duress?" Effie asks sweetly, a dark glimmer in her eyes.

Zanna slaps Effie hard, glowering at her. "How _dare_ you!" Zanna hollers, then smacks Effie again.

Effie lunges, smacking Zanna hard enough to knock a few teeth loose, then growls "You are the worst excuse for a woman I've ever seen!"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Zanna asks hatefully.

"I have, and I saw someone who is _still_ better than you," Effie snarls.

Zanna lashes out again, punching Effie square in the mouth. Effie pounces, knocking Zanna down and punching her face in, then she seizes Zanna's ears and starts to slam the woman's head into the concrete, only stopping when Zanna starts to lose consciousness. "You..." Zanna starts weakly.

"Mess with my husband, or my kids, ever again, and I won't be as merciful as to let you live any longer. I don't normally give warnings," Effie snarls, then turns away, taking one step and walking right into Haymitch, who looks like he wants to either cheer her on, report her, or kill her. She whispers "Hello, honey."

Haymitch shakes his head quietly, then looks to Zanna's concerned husband, who has just walked out of the Hob. "You Zanna's husband?" Haymitch asks.

"I am," the man says. "I saw your wife beat me to the punch. Literally."

"Yeah, about that..." Haymitch says, nodding to Zanna, who's weakly lying on the floor. "My wife has a history of being violently abused, and while she doesn't have a mean bone in her body, she gets violent when she feels threatened. I didn't think she'd beat your wife like this, and I thought it was safe to leave her alone for an hour."

Effie doesn't protest, knowing that she'll probably get into trouble for what she's done, and if she protests, Haymitch will be the least of her worries. "It's fine," the man says. "Your wife told me what Zanna's done. This isn't the first time this has happened because of an enraged wife. The hospital staff know Zanna, and they'll know exactly why she's in again. Your wife has backed up evidence, don't worry about a lawsuit."

"I wasn't worried," Haymitch says. "I'm more worried in case Effie's killed her."

"I didn't," Effie whispers. "I don't have that ability."

Haymitch glowers at her, and she shuts up, the knowledge that she's in enough trouble silencing her. "I'll keep her well out of the way from now on," Haymitch says. "And if you could keep your wife away from her, that'd be great."

"I'll try," the man promises. "She'll want some kind of comeuppance."

"Yeah, keep her well away from Effie. I would have kept Effie away, but she got out without me," Haymitch sighs, then turns to her, gently touching her stomach. "Did she hit you here?"

"I put steel over Baby," Effie whispers. "I was scared of Baby getting hurt."

"Okay," Haymitch murmurs.

"You didn't say she's pregnant," Zanna's husband says, gaping a little.

"Yeah, she is," Haymitch says. "Yet another reason to keep a close watch on her, huh? I'd better get her home, she's got a burst lip. She's likely to go into shock."

"Zanna smacked me," Effie whispers. "I wouldn't have hit her if she hadn't smacked me, because ladies don't start fights. We finish them."

Haymitch smirks a little, then squeezes her. "Okay, Eff. She hit you. Still doesn't make this right," he whispers, then scoops her up. "I'm going to carry you home."

Effie nods, nuzzling his neck. "She really did hit me," she whispers. "I would never hit someone unless they hurt me first."

"Still doesn't justify beating her head in," Haymitch says.

"That was punishment for messing with you and the kids," Effie whispers sadly. "I wanted to, but after she hit me, I figured I might as well teach her a lesson even she won't forget."

Haymitch is silent for the rest of the walk home. He gets her inside, cleans her up, and gets her out of her steel vest, then kisses her forehead and whispers "I'm really mad at you for doing that and making me have to get you a lawyer, a plea of imbalance and provocation, but you need to know that I'm proud of you for defending yourself. You don't have a mean bone in your little body."

Effie tries to swallow the lump of guilt and chokes out a quiet "I should have left it at a slap."

"Yeah, you _should_ have, but you didn't, and she really deserved that," Haymitch whispers back, petting her. "I don't want you beating anyone into unconsciousness again, though."

"I won't," Effie whispers sadly, then curls into a ball. "I don't think I'm going out unless I have to see a doctor for Baby, though. I never want to see anyone out there again."

Haymitch kneels in front of her and tugs her into his arms. "Hey, it's okay. Nobody out there will hate you," he whispers.

"They don't have to," Effie whispers. "I hate myself enough for everyone."

"See? You can't possibly kill someone, you're too gentle," Haymitch chuckles softly. "She'll be mildly concussed, but she'll be just fine."

* * *

Sure enough, a week later, Zanna's back up and walking around, but probably due to knowing that Effie will have the best of every defence for herself, she hasn't filed a lawsuit against her, which Haymitch is a bit too happy to report to Effie. Effie just gives him a half-smile and says "I'm still not leaving the house."

Haymitch shakes his head in disappointment. "You're spending too much time with me," he sighs. "You're _stubborn_."

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. If you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. I actually had no idea where I was going to take this, so I hope you liked it. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	43. Haymitch's Plane

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from SiziGuez, who requested via DM on Twitter: "_ _I would like to see Haymitch challenging Effie to eat, (I do not know why I imagine Haymitch feeding a very depressed Effie like a child with a spoonful including the little plane) in your story it would be great to see a Haymitch losing his passion screaming at him so that she eats to the point that the little thing ends up crying and Haymitch calms down and ends up feeding him and being tender with her_ _" Here it is! I hope you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 ** _Haymitch's Plane_**

In the one week since Effie's arrival on Haymitch's doorstep, Haymitch is yet to see her eat more than one mouthful of food at a meal. She's sitting in the living room in a little ball, a fluffy silver throw around her whole body, only her face poking out from it. She's clearly in no state to go and see Katniss and Peeta yet, but she still should have eaten more than fourteen bites of food in the last week. Haymitch approaches Effie's blanket mound and asks "Hey, small one, do you want something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry, thank you," Effie mumbles, her voice as vacant as her eyes.

"Come on. I made you onion soup," he offers, hoping to tempt her. "You like onion soup, don't you? It's home made, it has real onions."

"I'm really not hungry, Haymitch," she whispers. "Thank you anyway."

"Sweetheart, you need to eat," Haymitch murmurs. "I'll bring some to you. Peeta even brought you that soft brown bread you love so much. How about it?"

"Haymitch, please," Effie murmurs, trembling a little now. "I'm really not hungry. I feel horribly sick."

"That's because your little body needs food, Princess. I'll get you a bowl of soup and some of that bread, okay? You need to eat. Even half a bowl of soup is okay, as long as you have something inside you," he says, poking her gently in the hopes of inspiring a reaction.

She hides under her blanket and whimpers "I'm really not in the mood, Haymitch."

He ignores that, getting up and power-walking to the kitchen. He pours out some soup into a bowl and gets a plate out, placing two rolls of bread on it, then takes it back to the living room, finding Effie still in her sad little heap. "Okay, Princess, dinner time," he says. "No protests."

"Haymitch," she whines. "I really, really don't feel very well. Can't we leave this?"

"Nope," he replies. "I've seen every single one of your lies when it comes to how little you eat, and I know when you're lying to me. You're going to eat at least half of this. It's very little chewing on your part, so it's easy weight gain."

"Please, Haymitch, don't be mean about it," Effie whispers. "I really feel sick. Please let me be."

"Let you be? As in let you die of starvation?" he asks, his patience slipping.

"No," Effie whimpers, sensing the oncoming storm. "Please, Haymitch, I really feel unwell, don't make me eat."

That tears the final strands of what little patience Haymitch has, and he shouts "You're going to eat that food, or you're going to the hospital! What's it going to be, Princess?! Are you going to eat, or are you going to the hospital and getting hooked onto a drip?! Now's the time to make your choice!"

She squeaks and hides, trembling. "Please..." she whimpers.

Haymitch, however, is having none of it. He pulls the blanket from around her and throws it across the room. "What is it going to be, Effie?! Are you going to do the sensible thing, or are you going to go and get wired up to drips until you're fit to leave?!" he roars. Effie starts to cry, curling in on herself, little squeaks escaping her every so often. "Don't pull the waterworks, it's not going to get you out of eating something!"

"Please stop shouting at me," she sobs. "I'm trying... I really am. I just don't feel very well."

Haymitch sighs. "You're doing this because you know I hate it when you cry," he says, his anger ebbing away as she cries, being replaced by a protective instinct to make her feel safe instead of terrified. "Okay, okay, I'll stop shouting at you. You weren't going to listen to me anyway. How about we try to get a quarter of a bowl into you? Is that better?"

Effie squeaks, then curls up tighter. Haymitch sits down beside her, then holds up the small spoon he'd bought especially for her. It was supposed to be a joke, but seeing how little she eats, it made it much easier to get food into her mouth. She sniffs and grabs a tissue, wiping her face up. "I'm sorry," she sobs. "I don't mean to be ungrateful. I can't help not feeling well."

"I'm still angry, Effie," he says, his voice hard. "You'll have to stop talking and eat if you don't want me to start yelling at you again."

She nods and eyes the bowl apprehensively. "It's not... Not poisoned, is it?" she asks timidly.

"You wish," he scoffs. "I didn't fight for your life just to poison you."

"Okay," she whispers, watching him fill the spoon.

She doesn't open her mouth immediately for the soup, so Haymitch taps her lips gently. She doesn't open her mouth, and Haymitch sighs, closing his eyes for a minute. He thinks back to when his younger brother wouldn't eat as a child and the inspiration hits him like a bolt of lightning. He draws the spoon back a little and gently, as if speaking to a very young child, whispers "Here comes the plane," then makes the sound of an old-fashioned airplane.

Effie obediently opens her mouth to take the food, and Haymitch silently thanks his mother and brother for helping him with his stubborn housemate. "Mm," she hums, a slight inflection of appreciation accompanying the sound.

"Good?" he asks quietly. Effie nods, so he fills the spoon again. "And here comes the plane."

She gives him a rare ghost of a smile as he makes the sound again, opening her mouth to receive the food. She makes a happy little squeak, then squirms closer to him. He grins at her, then pets her gently. "That's nice," she whispers.

"Yeah? Okay, well, you eat some more, then we can cuddle all night long," he offers.

"Okay," she whispers.

He repeats the plane thing until she's eaten half of the bowl of soup, then asks "Do you want more?"

"Yes," she whispers, cuddling close to him. "Maybe..."

"Maybe?" he asks.

"Bread?" she asks softly.

He passes her the bread and watches as she devours the bread and soup. She makes occasional happy squeaks, which just make Haymitch smile at her. She finishes both the bread and the soup, then stares at the bowl in amazement. "How do you feel?" Haymitch asks quietly.

"Still sick," Effie whispers. "My tummy hurts. But I'm not as shaky now."

"Yeah, your body's not used to food," Haymitch whispers, kissing her head. "But it's grateful for it. You're not as shaky now because you've eaten something. That's good. Now, we're not going to push you, but in an hour, if you like, the boy's left some strawberry cupcakes for you."

"Cakes?" Effie asks hopefully.

"Good to see your appetite's found you again," he chuckles. "Give it an hour, and we'll see if you still want cake, okay?"

"Okay," she whispers, snuggling against him. "Do I get my blanket back now?"

Haymitch bursts out laughing, cuddling her close. "You can have whatever you like, small stuff," he chuckles.

"So... I get a blanket, some more soup, some more bread, and maybe a cupcake?" she asks, a hint of teasing in her voice.

"If that's what you want," he murmurs, chuckling still, then kisses her cheeks. "Anything for my Princess."

She giggles and whispers "Am I still your Princess? Even in this mess?"

"You're always my Princess. I may have got you out of your royalty, but I can't take the royalty out of you," he chuckles, then squeezes her gently. "You're still a Princess."

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. To the Guest who requested a sequel to _Cravings_ , I will do that as soon as possible. All prompts received will be filled as soon as I can. I did not sleep very well last night, so my apologies for any mistakes. As always, if you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. I hope you liked it. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	44. The Incident

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from SiziGuez, who requested via DM on Twitter: "Make Haymitch's bad dream and accidentally cut her with his knife and she goes into crisis" Here it is! I hope it's what you wanted, and that you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 ** _The Incident_**

 _The smell of flames, coal, and burning flesh permeates his nostrils as he runs toward the burning building. Two strong arms wrap around him and a voice shouts "You can't get in there, boy, it's too late for them!"_

 _"You don't understand! That's my family! I need to get them out!" the teenager shouts, kicking and punching. He doesn't know where the knife comes from, nor why the man's scream as he lets him go sounds so feminine, but he does know that he's released and allowed to run for his mother and brother, both burning inside that house._

"Haymitch!" a female voice cries, with an accent so unlike any from Twelve. "Haymitch, give me that knife!"

The two tiny, but strong hands tug on the knife, and Haymitch jabs it at his attacker, waking only when her scream sounds. He jerks back, blinking hard. The greyish light of dawn illuminates the room, and as soon as his eyes focus, he sees Effie on their bedroom floor, scrunched into a ball. "Effie?" he asks. "What happened?"

"You had a nightmare," she gasps, trembling violently. "Are you awake yet?"

"Yeah, I'm awake," he sighs, leaning over the edge of the bed. "What are you doing down there, little one?"

"I think I need a first aid kit," she whimpers. "And a drink, I think I'm going into shock, everything's all fuzzy."

"What happened?" he demands, panic setting in. "What did I do to you?"

"Jabbed me with that horrible knife of yours," she gasps, then squirms into a kneeling position just before she's violently sick all over the floor.

Haymitch drops off the bed and props her up against the bed with a hand on her chest. She's paler than ever, her hair tousled and partially covered in vomit. He looks down to see blood all over her front and asks "Where'd I cut you?"

"It's okay, you didn't get me deeply enough to cut into my organs," she gasps. "It may need stitches, but nothing else."

He wastes no time in ripping the blood-soaked camisole off her body, examining the wound, then he picks her up, wrapping an old robe around her. He runs with her, taking off to the twenty four hour clinic. Only when they step inside, Effie screams and squirms, ignoring the pain from her injury. "Effie, shh, it's okay," Haymitch says, panic settling even deeper in the core of his soul.

She screams louder and louder, deafening everyone in the room, and attracting attention. A nurse approaches them and asks "What's the matter?"

"She's injured," Haymitch tells him hurriedly. "I think she's having a panic attack, too. She's definitely in shock."

The nurse leads Haymitch to an examination room and says "We have a wounded woman here, she's panicked and in shock."

Haymitch is allowed into the doctor's office, and tenderly places Effie on the bed. She wails loudly and clings to him, shaking violently. He lets the rushing in his ears take over as the doctor examines Effie, and sorts her out, vaguely registering her screams and sobs. It reminds him too much of his mother's screams, his brother's screams, and Effie's rescue from prison, how she'd cried for weeks afterward. The doctor eventually shakes Haymitch's shoulder and says "You may take her back to her home now."

"She's my wife," Haymitch mutters.

The look of kindness on the doctor's face is gone in an instant, replaced by wariness. "I see," he mutters, glaring at Haymitch.

"Save it, I'd never hurt her," Haymitch growls.

"You did," Effie whimpers.

"Unintentionally," Haymitch replies, far more gentle with Effie. "I swear, Doc, it's not what you think it is."

The doctor glares harder at Haymitch. "That's what they all say," the doctor says coldly.

Haymitch snarls "I have post-traumatic stress, and so does she. She tried to help me out of a nightmare, and got hurt in the process! I'd _never_ hurt her intentionally. Does that satisfy your curiosity?! I'll never hurt my wife intentionally."

He scoops Effie up and storms out with her, only noticing how unresponsive she's become when they're halfway home. He places her on the sofa, wrapping her up carefully. She whimpers softly and sniffs "I'm sorry, Haymitch," before clamming up entirely.

He kisses her head and murmurs "I'm the one who's sorry, Eff," before grabbing a bottle of liquor and flopping in an armchair.

That's how the kids find them that afternoon, Haymitch passed out drunk, and Effie catatonic in her blanket fort. "What happened in here?" Katniss asks quietly, checking Haymitch's pulse.

Peeta reaches to check Effie's pulse, and is horrified when she starts to scream. Haymitch jumps awake, flinging the bottle at the wall, looking around for an attacker. He spots Peeta near Effie and roars "Get away from her!" He shoves Peeta down, then grabs Effie. "Are you okay, Princess? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Effie's screams just get louder, and Katniss asks "What's going on?"

"Out!" Haymitch bellows. "Get out, get out, get out!"

He chases the kids from the house, then returns to his Effie, soothingly stroking her cheeks and hair. "No!" Effie wails. "No, no! No!"

"It's okay," he whispers, aching for his Effie. "It's all okay."

"No!" she screeches. "No!"

Haymitch hugs her miserably, wondering if they'll ever be okay again, and realises that they'll never be okay again, not if he's going to sleep with a weapon. He gets up and leaves Effie alone, placing his knife in a locked drawer so that Effie will always have a weapon if she needs one. He returns to the living room and cuddles Effie again. "I've put it away," he whispers. "I'll never hurt you again."

His words have no effect on her, and the knowledge makes him crave a bottle of liquor more than ever. It seems like even though they won the war, the battles are still raging on.

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. To the Guest who requested a sequel to _Cravings_ , I will do that as soon as possible. All prompts received will be filled as soon as I can. I have a cold and my brain is foggy, so my apologies for any mistakes. As always, if you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. I hope you liked it. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	45. Salted Caramel Truffles

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from a Guest, who requested a sequel to chapter 28 (Cravings). Here it is! My apologies for the wait, I'll explain later, and I hope it's what you wanted, and that you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 _ **Salted Caramel Truffles**_

Effie hums softly to herself, flipping the bacon in the pan with an expert twist of the spatula. A soft patter of uncertain little feet comes down the stairs and through the hall into the kitchen, and a small voice asks "Momma?"

"Good morning, darling," Effie says sweetly, turning to face the love of her life. "How's my special girl this morning?"

Her heart nearly bursts with love at the sight of her daughter, her blonde curls a mess and her grey eyes cloudy with sleep. "Momma, does we gots those tuffles?" the tiny girl asks.

" _Do_ we _have_ the _truffles_?" Effie asks, taking advantage of Haymitch's absence to correct their baby. "Yes, we do have the salted caramel truffles you love so much, but you're not having candy before you have your breakfast, Elle."

Elle nods and mumbles "They's my bestest candies."

"They _are_ your _favourites_?" Effie asks, smiling to soften the words a little.

"Eff, stop correcting my little Peanut," Haymitch groans. "She'll learn from us. Now, where's my little Mini Effie at?"

Elle wraps herself around her father's leg. "I here," she mumbles. "Momma make me wait for candy."

"Well, you need to have breakfast first," Haymitch sighs, picking Elle up. "But when you've had breakfast, you can have _two_ candies. How's that?"

"You'll ruin her teeth, Haymitch," Effie warns him.

"First of all, it's not sugar that does that, and second of all, it's just two candies. She'll be fine," Haymitch retorts, a little more snappy with Effie than he usually is, which signals a rough day ahead.

She rolls her eyes, mentally cursing him for _that_ particular bad habit, then places his coffee and plate of food on the table. "Just eat, Haymitch," she hisses coldly, then takes Elle from him and places her in her own chair. She picks Elle's bowl up from the counter and places the child's cereal in front of her, along with a glass of orange juice. "Eat up, Elle."

Effie leaves them to their meal while she gets her own coffee, rethinking all of her plans for the day. She decides immediately that she's not staying at home when she and Haymitch are bound to fight, and makes a plan to take their daughter to the park. Alone. "Aren't you going to eat?" Haymitch asks, and Effie glowers at him, her eyes promising a painful death to him. "What? You need to eat, Eff, you're _tiny_."

"Leave me alone," she growls. "I'm not _hungry,_ and I won't waste food. Unless you _want_ me to?"

Haymitch groans. "Great, you're cranky. What's up, sweetheart? That time of the month?" he asks.

She doesn't mean to throw her coffee at him, it's more of a reflex. He dodges it just as she shrieks "Must you be an insensitive pig _all of the time_ , Haymitch?!"

"What time on month?" Elle asks innocently.

"Mommy's cranky week," Haymitch mutters.

"The next thing to fly at you will be my shoe," Effie growls. "And _no_ , Haymitch, it's _not_ my _cranky week_."

"You're not pregnant again, are you? I'm still not recovered from the last time you had a little human taking over your body," he says, looking genuinely panicked.

She glowers harder and snarls "I'm _never_ going to have another one of your babies. Not after last time."

Elle gasps and asks "Momma?"

Effie suddenly feels as if all the wind has been knocked right out of her at the stricken look on her daughter's face. "No, baby, that's not what I meant," Effie hastens to reassure her baby.

The tiny girl flings herself at her mother and sniffs "I sowwy, Momma."

"Oh, baby girl, it wasn't your fault," Effie whispers, clutching her baby close. "It wasn't. The worst thing that happened really was an addiction to salted caramel truffles. I loved every second of being pregnant with you."

Haymitch raises his eyebrows at her questionable lie behind their daughter's back. "Bee-bee?" the little girl asks anxiously.

"Yes, baby, really," Effie replies, ignoring her husband in favour of snuggling her baby girl. "If I had to do it all over again just to get you, I would. I love you so much, my sweet child. Don't you ever doubt that. I only meant that my body disagreed with having extra weight, that's all. I don't regret you."

Elle nestles up to Effie, then asks "Tuffle?"

"Okay, truffles," Effie replies. "You know, ever since you were born, I've hated those. It must have been you asking for them."

"It was," Haymitch chuckles. "And you knew it. You'd always use her as an excuse to have them."

Effie laughs, then kisses Elle's head. "You're _my_ little truffle, Elle," she tells her, then she hands over two salted caramel truffles to her daughter. "Now, stay still while you eat those. I don't want you to choke."

Elle snuggles up to her mother while she eats her truffles, then whispers "I rub you too, Momma."

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. Now, the reason I'm so slow at updating is that I have started a training course, and between class, placement, voluntary work, my pets, and my family, I've had scarcely any time to write. I wrote this and proof read it in under an hour. I'm so sorry for how much waiting you all have to do. All prompts received will be filled as soon as I can. As always, if you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. I hope you liked it. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	46. Haymitch's Decision

_Hi there! Today's prompt is from effiecinna, who reviewed and requested the following "_ I was wondering if you could please do something when Seneca gets Effie pregnant and then he dies and haymitch takes Effie and the kid in? Thanks" _Here it is! I hope it's what you wanted, and that you enjoy it._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its characters, its world, or any of its associates, because all that belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play with her creations.**_

 ** _Haymitch's Decision_**

To say that the crying Haymitch hears through the elevator doors is loud is an understatement at its finest. He's assaulted with the wails as the doors open, and a flurry of lavender as a tiny weight slams into his body, the wails deafening. He awkwardly wraps his arms around the little lavender woman as she cries, patting her back uncomfortably. "Uh, Trinks, why are you crying?" he asks quietly.

"Seneca!" Effie wails, breaking down into more sobs.

"No, Effie, I'm _Haymitch_ ," Haymitch sighs, rubbing her back. "Want some vodka?"

"No!" Effie wails. "No alcohol!"

"Okay, okay, then what _do_ you want?" he asks.

She wails "He's _dead_ , Haymitch!"

"Who is?" Haymitch asks, rubbing Effie's back gently as he steers her to the sofa.

"Seneca!" Effie screams, clinging to Haymitch. "He's left us!"

"He left _you_ ," Haymitch says. " _I_ had nothing to do with him."

"I didn't mean you!" she sobs. "He left _us_!"

"Eff, there's only one of you," Haymitch reminds her, stroking her hair through the torn wig. "Have you been boozing?"

"No! I can't drink!" Effie wails. "What am I going to do, Haymitch?! I can't do this alone! People will make assumptions! Nobody knew! It was supposed to just be a one-night thing! It was meant to save our kids, not make more! I didn't mean this to happen! He told me not to tell anyone, that he'd marry me if that's what it took, we could have spun a love story, but he promised to be here for it, and then he killed himself as soon as I left! He could have just said he didn't want it! I would have understood!"

Haymitch is silent for a second, then asks "Trinket, does all of this mean that you're having Crane's baby?"

"Of course it does!" Effie wails, burying her face on Haymitch's neck. "I only agreed to do it once, just to keep Katniss and Peeta alive. I _promise_ you, I didn't intend to fall pregnant."

"Hey, hey," Haymitch whispers, rubbing Effie's back gently. "Breathe, sweetheart. I know you didn't mean to end up with a little human. I know that. I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at him for abandoning you."

"What am I to do, Haymitch?" she sobs. "It's just _not_ done to have a baby out of wedlock, and even less done to keep that baby, but I want to keep my little baby."

Haymitch thinks for a second, then decides to throw his usual caution to the wind. "Then we'll get married," he says firmly, as if cementing it all. "We'll claim that the little one's mine, and we'll get married. That way, your little reputation stays intact, and Junior Trinket gets to live."

"But won't my baby be reaped?" Effie asks quietly.

"Nope," Haymitch replies with a confidence he doesn't truly feel. "I'll work it out with Snow. You just sit back, think of your wedding dress, and how good of a mom you'll be."

She looks up at him with wide blue eyes. "You're not going to leave me, are you?" she asks.

"Princess, if I was going to leave you or kill myself to escape you, don't you think I would have done it by now?" Haymitch asks, stroking Effie's cheeks. "I'll be back in a few hours, okay? You just sit there and think of your wedding and our baby."

She lights up at the way he says _our baby_ , then whispers "I love the way you say _our_ baby."

He gently rubs her stomach, smirking at her. "It _is_ our baby," he tells her, then kisses her lips. "Stay away from the booze."

"I will," she breathes, placing her hand on top of his. "I might take a nap."

"You do that," Haymitch murmurs, then gets up, throwing a blanket over her. "I'll get you for dinner."

As he leaves her to her nap, he begins to work on how he'll convince Snow to let him marry Effie and help her raise a baby without ever running the risk of the baby seeing the inside of an arena.

* * *

A/N 2: Well, if you liked that, feel free to drop me a comment and let me know. If there are any mistakes, please do not hesitate to point them out, there is only me working on these stories. All prompts received will be filled as soon as I can. As always, if you have any prompts you'd like to see, I'm all ears. I hope you liked it. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx


	47. Morning with Elle

_Prompt is from a Guest reader who asked "Can you please do a sequel to the Seneca one?!"_

 _Honestly, until just now, I had next to no motivation to write, as I've just spent nearly a week working on my chaptered story, but I watched a Daz Black video on YouTube called Rise of a Vampire (and the other two parts of it, but the first one is where my inspiration to write struck), and out of nowhere, this came up and I had to write it out. The video has no effect on this one-shot, but it's excellent. As for the_ _story you're about to read, I hope you like it. Enjoy! xxx_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like playing around with her characters.**

 _ **Morning with Elle**_

"Mama! Mama! Mama!"

Effie whines quietly before the three year old girl lands on her back. "Good morning," Effie groans, wriggling a little to check that her spine hasn't snapped. "How's my baby girl this morning?"

"Dada make pan!" the little girl squeals.

"Pancakes?" Effie asks hopefully.

"Pancakes," Haymitch confirms from the doorway. "Our little Peanut wanted to treat her mommy."

Effie reaches up and rolls her daughter off her back and onto the mattress, giving her a gently kiss on the nose. "Hello, my beautiful baby girl," she murmurs, then sits up. "And hello to _you_ , my gorgeous husband. Did you bring the pancakes?"

"And a fresh mug of coffee," Haymitch chuckles, preening a little at getting Effie's favourite breakfast right. "Peanut insisted that Mommy got coffee."

Effie laughs and tickles her daughter. "Is that true, Elle?" she asks, smiling fondly at the squirming child.

"Yeah!" Elle giggles, her dark blonde curls all over her father's pillow. "Dada, pan!"

Haymitch chuckles "You're just like your mom, Peanut."

Effie smirks and says "Well, she _is_ my daughter. I hoped she'd get _some_ resemblance to me."

"That isn't _resemblance_ , Effie, that's the whole Effie, just even littler," Haymitch chuckles.

Elle tilts her head and smiles up at her father. "Me got you dark hair," she squeaks, tugging on a dark blonde strand. "It you an Mama."

Haymitch smiles at her, forgetting again that Elle isn't his daughter by blood. "That's right, squirt," he chuckles. "You got Mama's blonde and my black mixed up."

Haymitch gives the tray of pancakes and coffee to Effie, then scoops Elle up while Effie digs into the food with more enthusiasm than ever. "Dada, why do I got milky when you got dark?"

She touches his face to clarify what she means. Effie smiles at her daughter between bites, then swallows her food before saying "You inherited my genes, darling."

She dreads the day when she has to answer her daughter's questions about the Games, and who the man who committed suicide was, and why Elle has a few of his traits and physical features. Haymitch says "You were lucky, Peanut. You look more like your mama than you look like me. Your mama's easily the prettiest woman in the world."

"You pretty," Elle huffs.

"Yes, Haymitch, you're just as pretty as I am," Effie chuckles, earning herself a death glare. "It isn't a bad thing, darling. You're beautiful."

"Yeah!" Elle squeals. "Dada boo-full!"

Haymitch looks down at Elle's toothy grin and big blue eyes, then smirks a little. "I can't get mad at you, Peanut. You're too cute," he tells her, then playfully blows a raspberry on her stomach, laughing as she squirms.

Effie laughs with them as she eats the last of her pancakes and drains her coffee. As soon as she's put the tray aside, she wriggles into the games, taking turns with Haymitch to tickle their baby girl and kiss her. Elle shrieks and squirms between her giggles, which just amuses her parents further. Eventually, Effie lies down on the bed, sighing "You've killed me."

Both breathless from laughing too much, Haymitch and Elle share a look and nod at each other. Haymitch whispers "One. Two."

Effie looks at her husband and daughter with growing concern. "Oh, no, you don't," she gasps, and starts to try to get up.

"Three!" Haymitch yells, and both he and Elle lunge for Effie, pulling her back onto the bed to tickle torture her. "If you try to escape, we'll attack you with kisses!"

"Oh, no! Not the kisses!" she squeals, giggling. "No! You mustn't!"

Haymitch and Elle share another look before attacking her with kisses as well as tickling. "You should have accepted it," Haymitch laughs, kissing her lips gently. "You're trapped."

"This is no way to treat your wife! Or your mother!" Effie squeals, wriggling and laughing. "I need help! Someone save me! I'm being tickled and kissed! Help!"

Elle giggles and kisses her mother's cheek. "Me wuv Mama," she giggles, tickling her mother more.

Effie squeals and squirms. "This is not how to treat me!" she squeals. "Haymitch, Elle, stop! I am _begging_ you to stop! Please!"

"Why should we stop?" Haymitch asks, kissing her shoulder.

"I have to go to the toilet!" she squeals. "I have a small human on my bladder!"

"Elle's not on your bladder, Eff," Haymitch chuckles. "Nice try."

"No, really!" Effie shrieks, giggling. "I have a tiny baby on my bladder, and I need the bathroom!"

Haymitch freezes, and Elle looks intrigued. "Baby?" she asks curiously. "Baby?"

She starts searching the bed, looking extremely confused. Effie smiles up at her husband, then strokes Elle's hair, taking her hand. "Here, darling. Baby is in here," she gasps, trying to catch her breath. She guides Elle's hand until her tiny palm lies flat on her mother's lower abdomen. "Your little baby brother or sister is living in there."

Haymitch stares at Effie and asks "Really, sweetheart? This isn't just a ploy to make us stop tickling you?"

"No, darling," she says, smiling up at him. "I found out after you fell asleep last night. Are you excited to have another little human?"

Elle nods eagerly, resting her head next to her hand. Haymitch smirks and nods, then leans down to give Effie a kiss. She responds eagerly to that, entangling one hand in his hair. He draws back for air and whispers "We're going to have to set up another nursery, aren't we?"

"Yes," Effie giggles. "And now you have a baby painter to help you."

Elle grins at them from her place on her mother's stomach, and Haymitch smirks, ruffling his daughter's hair. "Two little kids. I suppose we should be prepared for being assaulted by two adorable munchkins," he says. "You seem to be great at making cute things."

Effie smiles up at him. "I really do, don't I?" she says smugly. "I think we're going to stop at two, though. I already have you and Elle. This house doesn't need to be overrun with cuteness."

"Three cute things is enough," Haymitch agrees, then carefully slips his hand under Elle's curls to rub Effie's stomach. "I can't believe that you've managed to get pregnant again."

Effie laughs. "I think we're going to have to accept that much. He or she is already promising me a pregnancy of horrors," she says, then gets up. "I still need to go."

"You go, then. Can't have you wetting the bed," Haymitch chuckles. "Go on. And no more coffee for you."

"Decaf?" she asks hopefully.

"If you're lucky," he deadpans, but he smirks at her pout. "Fine."

He takes Elle for a cuddle while Effie strolls off to the bathroom. "Your mama's a pain," he whispers to his daughter.

"Me know," Elle murmurs back.

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Well, I hope you liked that! As usual, if you have anything you'd like to see, please leave them in a review, PM me, tweet me, or DM me on Twitter at BlackCatS46. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx**_


	48. Lies, Secrets, and Stories

_**Here is a one-shot that I came up with (I don't remember how, it was literally just "OMG, I'm a genius!" and this happened), and it involves a nine year old Willow Mellark, a six year old Elle Abernathy, and dealing with a lot of issues that I notice a lot of now. Hope you like this.**_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play around with her characters.**

 ** _Lies, Secrets, and Stories_**

"So, what is this super-secret story that you couldn't tell me because your mom and dad might overhear?" Elle asks Willow softly.

"Shh!" Willow hisses, and Elle obediently follows her deeper into the trees. Elle knows about the treehouse that her own father and Willow's father had built for the girls, and she knows that that's where Willow is taking her. Once at the treehouse, Willow whispers "We need to go up there."

"Mom and Aunt Katniss said we're not allowed up there without Dad or Uncle Peeta," Elle whispers.

"That's why I told Aunt Effie that we were at the park," Willow sighs in a _duh_ tone. "Now get yourself up there, this story won't last forever!"

Scared of diobeying her strong-willed cousin, Elle scrambles up the ladder and into their treehouse. Willow quickly follows suit and locks them in the treehouse. Elle scrunches up on a cushion, then asks "Willow, why did we have to lie to Mom?"

"Because she's an adult, and she would have made us bring your dad, and he can't hear this story, because he's _also_ an adult," Willow sighs impatiently, as if Elle's being stupid.

"Okay," Elle sighs sadly. "Well? What's the story?"

Willow smirks an evil smile, and asks "Are you strong enough to not chicken out?"

"I won't chicken out," Elle promises. At the age of nine, she believes herself to be grown up enough to join in on twelve year old Willow's adventures. "Tell me, Willow."

Willow nods, and assumes her darkest, most serious tone. "Do you know about that big house at the very end of the Village? The one that's bigger and older than the rest?" she asks.

"Yes," Elle whispers, gripped by Willow's tone. "Mommy says that it dates back before the first war."

"Yeah, it does," Willow whispers. "It's _haunted_ , according to the kids in my class."

"Is it?!" Elle gasps, her eyes growing wide.

"Sure it is," Willow continues, her voice low. "There was a man who lived there with his wife, and their two little kids. One day, their little boy vanished. Everyone got involved, and his sister went mad, so her parents locked her in the attic."

"Why?" Elle asks curiously.

"Because she was crazy, duh," Willow huffs. "Pay attention. Anyway, the parents forgot that their little girl was locked in the attic, and they didn't even know that she _died_. They had two more babies, and they pretended like they'd never lost their first two kids. And one day, while they were all asleep, the ghost of the little girl crept out of the attic and strangled the babies."

"Why?" Elle asks, shaking a little now.

"She was _jealous_ ," Willow explains. "And when the parents found the babies dead, the ghost of the little girl made a pipe fall out of the ceiling onto their heads, which crushed their skulls and killed them. The girl ghost vanished, and now the ghosts of her mommy and daddy haunt that house, looking for the little girl who killed them and their kids."

Elle gasps loudly, then asks "Are they still there, Willow?"

"Of course they are!" Willow exclaims. "They'll never leave. Not unless they find a little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes in their house and make her _pay_ for what she did."

Elle makes the connections and says "Okay, Willow. I want to go home now."

Willow nods and glances up at the darkening sky. "Yeah, Mom and Auntie Effie might come looking if we don't get home soon," she says casually. "Let's go."

The two of them climb out of their treehouse and walk out of the woods, then wander home in the rapidly darkening streets of Twelve. They get home just as Effie opens the front door to go and look for her daughter and her 'niece'. "Oh! There you two are! I was worried sick about you!" she exclaims, then picks the girls up. "Come on, inside. Dinner's just been served up."

Haymitch pokes his head around the kitchen door. "That them?" he asks, studying his wife.

"Yes, that was our girls," Effie sighs. "What happened, girls? Was something extremely interesting at that park?"

"We had a lot of fun on the swings," Willow says nonchalantly. "Didn't we, Elle?"

"Uh huh," Elle replies, uncomfortable with lying to her parents. "Lots of fun."

"Something wrong there, Peanut?" Haymitch asks, stroking Elle's hair. "You look preoccupied."

"I'm fine, Daddy," she whispers, leaning into his touch.

Effie gives her daughter a suspicious look, then says "Well, girls, eat up. Willow, your mother called, she's coming to collect you in an hour."

Willow nods, and eats her food with the same enthusiasm as her mother does. Elle copies, but with a little more reluctance. "Are you sure you're okay, Peanut?" Haymitch asks, watching his daughter.

"Yes, Daddy," Elle whispers. Willow subtly kicks Elle under the table as the adults share a worried look. "Everything's fine."

The girls finish their food, and Willow and Elle head upstairs while the adults do the dishes and chat. Once in Elle's room, Willow kicks the door shut and hisses "What the hell?! Do you _want_ them to catch us out lying?!"

"Language," Elle automatically rebukes. She blushes hard, then murmurs "Look, I don't like lying to my parents, Willow. It feels wrong."

"Oh, suck it _up_ ," Willow groans. "I lie to _my_ parents all the time, and _they_ never pick up on it because I'm good at it. You need to learn to lie better, Elle."

"But Mommy and Daddy should _trust_ me, Willow," Elle whispers. "I don't want them to believe that I'd lie to them about everything just because of this one time."

"You're _such_ a kid," Willow sighs. "I don't know why I bother telling you things, you just want to run off and tell your mom and dad everything anyway. It's stupid."

"It's better if grown ups know," Elle counters. "It means that we're likely to be much safer."

"It also means that we're _wimps_ ," Willow scoffs. "Or _you_ are. _I_ wouldn't bring an adult into this."

Elle pouts and squeaks "I am _not_ a wimp!"

"Prove it," Willow challenges. "Don't tell the grown ups _anything_."

Elle nods resolutely.

.

That night, after being tucked into bed, Elle can't fall asleep. She keeps seeing things in the shadows and hearing her name on the wind. Eventually, she hears _"We're coming for you_ ," and lets out a deafening scream. She keeps screaming, even as her door bursts open and the lights switch on, only stopping screaming as her mother's arms wrap around her.

She sobs hard, clinging to her mother, who asks "Baby, what's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

"They're coming for me, Mommy," Elle sobs.

"Who are?" Effie asks, cuddling her daughter.

Haymitch sits on the bed and rubs his daughter's back. "The man and woman who live in that big house up the street," Elle whimpers. "They want a little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes."

"Peanut, that house is empty," Haymitch tells his daughter, rubbing her back. "Nobody is coming for you."

"They are, they are!" Elle wails. "Willow said so!"

"What did Willow tell you?" Effie asks softly.

"She told me not to say," Elle sniffs. "She said that if I told, I'd be a wimp."

"What?!" Haymitch demands. "That..."

"Careful what you say, Haymitch," Effie warns. "Little ears are listening ears."

Haymitch growls softly, then says "I'm calling the kids, I won't have their little monster tell my kid to keep secrets."

Effie pets her daughter gently. "Okay, honey pie, listen to Mommy. You are _not_ a wimp if you tell Mama what happened. In fact, you're very brave if you tell me what happened. I promise you, I won't be angry with you if you tell me. Okay? You won't be punished, no matter what," she whispers, cuddling her daughter. "Tell Mama what happened."

"Willow lied to you," Elle sobs. "We didn't go to the park. She made me go to the woods. She pulled me with her. We went to our treehouse. I wanted to tell you that, but she made me promise that I wouldn't. And then she told me about the family who used to live up the road, and now they're coming to get me because the ghost of their forgotten daughter killed them, and I look like her."

Effie sighs softly, cuddling Elle close. "Well, darling, I'm glad that you did tell me where you went. I will be having words with Willow and her parents about this lying thing. You were very brave to tell me the truth, because being honest when you've promised to lie is very hard. Now, my girl, listen up. There is _no_ truth to what Willow told you. Nobody is coming for you, darling girl. You're perfectly safe. Daddy and I will never let anything happen to you. In future, no matter what, if someone says _keep it a secret from Mommy and Daddy_ , you tell us immediately. Even if they call you nasty names for it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mommy," Elle whimpers, clinging to her mother.

Haymitch returns to the room with a glare that promises pain on his face, tugging a half-asleep Willow along with him. "Here," he growls. "Did you get the truth from our kid yet?"

"Yes," Effie replies, then takes Willow from him and hands Elle to him. "Be nice to her, this wasn't her doing."

"You're too soft on her," Haymitch mutters, making Elle whimper sadly. He softens a bit and cuddles her close, kissing her head. "Okay, Peanut, you're safe."

Willow mumbles "Why am I here?"

"Because you lied to me," Effie says sternly. "You told me that you were going to the park, and you took my little girl with you to the woods. I believed that you were safely in the park, and that I knew where you were if anything bad were to happen. Not only did you lie to me, though, you told my little girl that lying to me is okay, and that she had to lie to me for _you_ or she would be a wimp in your eyes."

"She _is_ a wimp," Willow says accusingly, glaring at Elle.

"She's not a wimp, Willow," Effie says firmly. "It takes a lot of courage to break a promise in the name of safety, courage that my daughter has. You know that your mother and I don't like letting you go into the woods alone. It's not safe to do that, and you know it. My question is why did you feel it was necessary to lie to me? You could have asked, and Elle's dad could have gone with you."

"We didn't need any adults with us," Willow huffs. "Well, _I_ didn't."

"You're twelve," Effie sighs. "And while you may think you're grown up enough to go out there alone, you're not. Elle _certainly_ isn't. And while we're on this topic, why did you tell Elle a story like that and scare her?"

"She asked me to!" Willow shouts.

"Be that as it may, I don't like that you did that. A grown up would _not_ tell a nine year old a scary story," Effie says. "Your parents, your uncle, and I didn't tell _you_ scary stories when you were nine. We certainly didn't tell you that ghosts were coming to get you in the middle of the night. In future, Willow, if you ask us to let you go anywhere, especially with Elle, one of us will be coming with you to make sure that you don't lie to us again. And if you make my little girl endanger either you or herself by lying to us again, I will forbid you from seeing her."

"You can't do that," Willow scoffs.

"I can, and I will," Effie warns her. "Don't tempt me."

"You don't make the rules," Willow spits arrogantly.

"Yes, I do, and I'll thank you not to use that tone of voice in my house," Effie replies coolly, and gives Willow a _look_ that would put fear into the heart of even the most hardened criminal. "Now, think very carefully about how you go about behaving in future, and you can guarantee that your mother and father will know everything about it."

"You can't!" Willow gasps.

"I can, and I am," Effie replies, then lifts the girl up and carries her downstairs. "Haymitch, Elle is sleeping in our room with us tonight. Take her to our bed."

Effie takes Willow home, and Haymitch takes Elle into his and Effie's room. "Daddy?" Elle asks timidly.

"Yeah?" Haymitch asks, a little more harshly than usual.

The tone of his voice intimidates his little daughter more than it should, and her voice is barely more than a scared whisper when she asks "Are you angry at me because of what I did?"

Haymitch freezes as he pulls the bedsheets back for her, then turns slowly to face her. "It wasn't your fault that you felt pressured, Elle. Willow is like her mom, but meaner. She was the one who lied, and she was the one who bullied you. You clearly wanted to say something, and we knew something was up. It was kind of clear that it was Willow's doing, so we didn't press. We wanted you to come clean on your own. I'm not angry with you, sweetheart. You're impressionable, and she should have known better than to make you stay silent. Now, come on, hop into bed," he tells her, but she stays put.

"I'm sorry I let her do that, Daddy," Elle whispers. "I should have said something when I got home."

"She didn't tell you before you left?" he asks.

"No, she said we should go to the park," Elle admits. "She said that she lies to her parents all the time, and that I should do it too."

"Oh, for Panem's sake," Haymitch groans, then hugs Elle close. "Don't you ever listen to that girl. You should never keep secrets from us. You'll never get into trouble with us if you're honest with us and keep us in the loop."

Elle nods against her father's shoulder and whispers "I'm sorry for keeping it secret for as long as I did."

"You came clean, and you know not to do it again," he murmurs, stroking her hair. "You can stop being sorry now. It's okay, we've sorted it out. Let's get you all tucked up in bed, then we can all have a big family snuggle when Mommy gets home."

"I'm already home," Effie sighs, stretching out. She kicks off her shoes, then climbs back into bed. "Come on, you two, we all need our beauty sleep."

Haymitch places Elle in the middle of their bed, climbing in next to her as soon as she's lay down. He wraps his arms around his daughter, then snakes them under his wife as well, a smirk on his face. "My two beautiful girls," he mutters.

Elle smiles and snuggles down while her mother edges closer, sandwiching Elle's tiny body between her and Haymitch, her arms around them both. "Let's get some sleep," she whispers, kissing her daughter's head, then Haymitch's lips.

Moments after both adults have fallen asleep, Elle says "I want cookies."

Both of her parents groan at that, and she starts giggling while her mother kisses her head and murmurs "Cookies come in the morning. Sleep now."

"But cookies," Elle whispers.

"Effie, this is your fault," Haymitch mutters. "She's got your midnight snack habit."

Effie mutters something rude under her breath, then rolls out of bed. "This is the _last_ time I will ever give you cookies in the middle of the night, Elle," she grumbles.

Fifteen minutes later, Elle has had a cookie and some milk, and her parents are falling asleep again when she murmurs "I need the toilet."

"Elle..." Effie groans and picks her up. "Fine, come on."

She's just starting to think that Elle's playing on the fact that she gets to sleep in her parents' bed while the little girl uses the toilet, but as soon as Elle's flushed, washed her hands, and left the bathroom, she hugs her mother around the waist and whispers "Mommy, I love you so much. Thank you for letting me stay with you tonight."

Effie melts at that, and scoops her daughter up. "It's no trouble, darling girl. Anything for my baby," she whispers, then carries her back to Haymitch, who is sat up in the dark, waiting for his wife and daughter. "Here we are."

Haymitch sighs in relief, then tugs them back into bed. "Get in here," he mutters. "Now, littlest thing, no more of this running around thing. We're going to sleep. Got that?"

"Yes, Daddy," Elle whispers, then lies down. "I love you so much, Daddy."

"I love you too, Peanut," Haymitch chuckles, lying down with her. "Princess, lie down."

Effie lies with them and cuddles them close. She smiles at the sound of Elle's soft snores, then more at the sound of Haymitch's much louder snoring, and falls asleep to the racket they're both making next to her.

* * *

 _ **And that's the end of that. I hope I did that justice. Recently, I have noticed this sort of behaviour in kids, and it made me wonder how Haymitch and Effie would deal with their daughter being coerced into this sort of thing. I don't know, maybe this only made sense in my head, haha. Let me know what you thought of it in a review or private message.**_

 _ **Also, really quickly before I say goodbye, I'd like to thank the wonderful effiecinna, who pointed out to me that I'd accidentally posted the same one-shot twice for chapter 48. I couldn't find my original one-shot for this, so here's a new one.**_

 _ **Until next time, much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx**_


	49. Comic-Con

_A/N: Hi! Welcome back! :) Enjoy. This was prompted by SiziGuez, who I thank deeply. Here is your story and I hope you enjoy it. :)_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(**

 _ **Comic-Con**_

"Mom, _please_ let me go to the comic-con," Elle whines.

"Elle, for the last time, _no_ ," Effie sighs. "I've told you time and again, you are _not_ going to the city by yourself."

"I won't _be_ by myself, Mom, I'll be with Cornel," Elle groans. "Come on, Mom, it's only two trains to the city."

"I don't want you anywhere _near_ the city without your father or me. I _especially_ don't want you there with _Cornel Oceanberry_. That boy has a worse reputation than I did at his age, and that is saying something," Effie says firmly. "The answer is _no_ , Elle. No more on the subject now."

"But Mom, Willow's going!" Elle protests.

"If Willow Mellark put her hand in a fire, would you do it too?" Effie asks coldly.

"She'd probably make me," Elle mutters. "Mom, comic-cons are fun!"

"Elle Lotus Abernathy, the answer is _no!"_ Effie shouts. "If I hear one more _word_ spoken about this, you will be grounded until you're twenty two!"

"Effie, why are you shouting at my Peanut now?" Haymitch asks sleepily.

"Your little _Peanut_ will not take no for an answer," Effie huffs. "She wants to go to the city, alone apart from Willow, Cornel Oceanberry, and Willow's boyfriend Rust Littlelock."

"Nope," Haymitch replies calmly. "Sorry, Peanut, Mama's right. You're not doing that. That city's dangerous. And I don't like the way those boys look at you."

"Willow gets to go," Elle huffs.

"I don't give a damn what Willow gets to do," Haymitch says. "Your mama said no, so the answer's no. We'll take you to the city ourselves if you're good."

"Dad, it's _comic-con_ ," Elle huffs.

"I don't care who gets conned, you're not going," Haymitch says. "You know that Mama and I only ever say no to you when it's dangerous."

"What would _you_ know about dangerous?" Elle scoffs. "You think letting me go to see Willow across the street without one of you watching me is dangerous."

"We still let you do that," Effie points out. "Look, Elle, I don't like the way you're behaving toward us right now. We've explained why the answer is no. Now, be a good girl and go do your homework. I don't want any more talk of this comic-con."

Elle growls "I hate you, did you know that?" and stomps off upstairs.

Effie bows her head and lets out a long sigh, then murmurs "Grant me serenity, for if I get strength, I may just end my own daughter."

Haymitch wraps his arms around Effie's waist. "Sweetheart, it's okay. She'll learn that we only want the best for her when she's grown up and has a baby or two of her own," he murmurs.

"I can't cope with her lately. She's become a miniature Willow," Effie whispers. "I took her to the store just yesterday, and when I chose a different sort of cereal, she shouted at me right there in the store and told me to put the box back and get the regular sort."

"What did you do?" he asks, nuzzling her neck.

"I told her that she picks the cereal when she pays for it," she whispers. "She threw a shoe at my head and commanded me to get the regular stuff."

"Did you?" he asks, squeezing her gently.

"Not a chance," Effie whispers. "I spanked her, there and then, with the shoe she threw at me. Where has my baby gone, Haymitch? I wish she was still my sweet, innocent little baby instead of this escaped hell-demon."

Upstairs, Elle is on her laptop, talking to Willow. "...I swear, Wills, it's like they just want me to be a baby forever," Elle hisses. "They act like I know nothing!"

"That's parents for you," Willow sighs. "I don't know how you're going to persuade them."

"Neither do I," Elle laments. "I suppose I'll have to find a way to pay Rust back for those tickets, then. I can't _believe_ them. This is _so_ unfair."

"I know it is," Willow mutters. "Your parents are so uncool. Tell you what, after we've done our homework, we'll meet in the usual spot, okay?"

"Sure," Elle sighs. "I'm going to end up in jail if I have to spend the whole evening with these two. Why couldn't I have had a younger sibling for them to focus on like you have Rye?"

"If you had a baby brother, you'd just want to throttle him too," Willow says sagely. "I hate having Rye. He may only be nine, but he's a nuisance."

"Yeah, but everyone pays attention to him instead of you because he's such an athlete, and you get to do whatever you like," Elle points out.

Willow shrugs. "Maybe you could say that you're staying over at Garnet's place. Garnet could tell her mom that you're staying with them, you sneak out in the night, and Garnet will tell her mom that you came to meet me in the park. I'm going to tell Mom that I'm staying the weekend with Rust, so we can claim to be there. Rust's mom will lie for us and say that we're there if yours call," she suggests.

"Willow, you're a genius," Elle squeaks happily. "We'll talk to Garnet tomorrow, yeah?"

"Okay," Willow chuckles.

.

That weekend, Elle disappears to go and see Garnet Appleby, who her parents have approved of her seeing. The two girls concoct the plan, and Elle disappears to meet Willow, and her boyfriend Rust, and Cornel in the train station, their tickets in hand. The four of them hop onto the train, grateful to finally be heading out of the city. Meanwhile, Haymitch has gone into his daughter's room to borrow her laptop, wanting to order her a present for her birthday. He opens it up and types in her password, tapping his fingers on the table in his impatience for it to open up. When it does, he's met with her recent group chat logs, all written to Willow, Garnet, Rust, and Cornel. He reads a few messages, then shouts "Effie!"

Effie goes running, scared silly by the sound of him shouting. "Haymitch! Has she got a body under her bed?!" she demands, terrified.

"That damn brat has run off to the city with her no-good friends!" Haymitch roars. "I was borrowing her laptop to get her a present for finally accepting no as an answer, and look!"

Effie reads the messages wth growing horror. "That silly girl," she whispers. "I may actually kill her. How _dare_ she!"

The two of them ponder what to do, and eventually Haymitch says "We wait until she gets home, then we collar her with everything she's got."

Effie nods sadly, then whispers "Where did we go wrong, Haymitch? I thought we raised our child better than this. She's never had very much to rebel against."

"It's Willow's fault, she led our girl astray," Haymitch mutters, hugging Effie close. "We did our best, and that girl led our Elle into the bad side of things."

.

Two days later, Elle arrives home, and Effie sweetly asks "Did you have a nice time?"

"It was great, thanks," Elle says happily. "So annoyed that I missed the comic-con, but we watched re-runs of our favourite old shows instead."

"Oh, that's lovely," Effie hums. "Now, my girl, go and unpack, your papa and I have something special for you."

Elle runs upstairs and Haymitch walks into the living room, kissing Effie's head. "Are we going to bust her?" he asks softly.

"Oh yes," Effie chuckles. "I bought tickets for the three of us to the next comic-con. She's going to be horrified."

"You're evil," he laughs, then kisses her gently. "I love that."

"Thank you," she giggles, then kisses him back just as their daughter comes back in. "Hey, honey."

"Hey. So, what's this thing?" Elle asks.

"Well, baby, we talked it over this weekend, and we decided that, since your comic-cons are so very important to you, and we didn't think to take you to this one ourselves," Effie says, then looks at Haymitch.

"We bought tickets to take you to the next one," he tells her, smirking a bit.

"What?!" Elle explodes.

"Well, you seemed so distraught over not getting to go this time, I thought we should go together to make it up to you. What do you say?" Effie asks hopefully.

"If I'd known you were going to do that, I never would have gone with Willow!" Elle bellows.

"Well, it's a good thing you've got a long while to start making amends for what you did, little stuff," Haymitch says casually.

"Because from now until then, you're grounded," Effie says. "If your behaviour does not improve, your grounding will be extended until next year."

"What?!" Elle demands. "You act like you knew!"

"We did," Haymitch chuckles. "I was going to get you something for accepting no as an answer and being mature, so I borrowed your laptop. Rookie mistake, leaving your chats open."

"And now, my girl, you're going to have to kiss goodbye to all of your privileges. You'll notice when you get upstairs that your television's gone, as is your laptop, and your cell phone. You also lost your stereo, your music player, and your headphones. We also took all of your non-educational books so that you have enough time to study. Have fun, baby girl," Effie says, then kisses her daughter's head. "You're not allowed to see your friends outside of school until your punishment is over, either."

Haymitch smirks at his daughter. "Get working on behaving well, Peanut," he tells her, ruffling her hair before leaving her to fume at them in silence.

* * *

 _Well, there we go. I hope that was satisfactory. As always, if you have any thoughts, ideas, theories, prompts, or constructive criticism to give, let me know your thoughts in a review down there, in a PM, or in a DM on Twitter. Much love and happiness to you all. Until next time. Cat. xxx_


	50. Sibling?

Prompt from Guest "Can you please do one when Elle finds out that Effie's pregnant and she gets mad? PLEASE!"

 _Well, yes I can, and I have written this up. I hope you like this. Now, the reason this didn't go up in the last week or so, which you'll know if you follow my Twitter, is I've been horribly sick these past two weeks, and I've been unable to see straight, which makes writing hard. I am so sorry for keeping you waiting. I hope this makes up for my absence. Enjoy. xxx_

 **Sibling?**

"Where's your mother, Elle?" Haymitch asks, looking over to his ten year old daughter from the stove.

"Bathroom," Elle replies, then bounds over to hug her father. "Hi."

"Hey, Peanut," Haymitch chuckles, bending down to hug her back. He cuddles her close and gets out a small spoon. "Want to taste the soup?"

Elle nods eagerly, and Haymitch grins, dipping the spoon into the soup and bringing out a little bit on the spoon. He allows it to cool before putting it to his daughter's lips. She takes it eagerly, then says "Salt."

"Salt?" Haymitch asks, kissing his daughter's cheek. "You want salt in there?"

"Mm hmm," Elle hums, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Effie walks in as Haymitch adds salt and smiles at her husband and daughter. "You two are so cute," she sighs happily.

"Mommy!" Elle squeals.

"Well, hello there, baby girl," Effie giggles.

"Hey, Bug," Haymitch says, smirking a little at her. "What's made you so happy this morning?"

"Well, I just got some excellent news," Effie tells him, grinning proudly.

"Don't leave me in suspense, Bug, what is it?" he asks, stirring the soup distractedly.

Effie beams and squeaks "We're going to have another baby!"

"What?!" both Haymitch and Elle shout, each with a very different tone of voice.

"I'm pregnant," Effie giggles delightedly.

Haymitch reaches over and tugs Effie close to give her a kiss. "That's _great_ news, Eff," he tells her between kisses.

"No, it isn't!" Elle huffs. "That's _awful_ news."

"Why is it awful, baby?" Effie asks. "You wanted a sibling last month."

"Willow has a sibling," Elle grumbles in a very _isn't-it-obvious_ tone. The fight with Willow the previous month has still not settled down. "Why would _I_ want something she has?"

"Elle, darling, I fail to see the issue here," Effie says gently. "Don't you want a little brother or sister to play with? He or she is going to be your best friend, after all. You can help us look after him or her."

"I don't want a baby in the house, Mommy," Elle says firmly. "Take it back."

Haymitch stifles a laugh, and Effie fights off a smile. "I can't take it back, darling. Baby is here to stay now. Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?" she suggests, reaching to pet her daughter.

"I just did," Elle huffs, dodging her mother's touch. "If Willow has one, I don't want one. I won't have any other little parasites in here. I'm the _only_ parasite allowed in here."

"Did you just call yourself and your little sibling _parasites_?" Effie asks, confusion and anger battling for domination in her mind. "Why would you say that you're parasites?"

"Parasites live inside people or animals or on them, and they take their blood and other nutrients, and they make people sick," Elle says. "That's what babies do to people, and that makes babies parasites. Since that's a baby, and I was a baby, we're parasites, and I'm your _only_ parasite. No more parasites allowed."

Haymitch has to grip onto the counter to hold himself upright, unable to prevent himself laughing now. Effie's confusion and anger have disappeared, leaving her to fight off her own laughter. "My precious girl," Effie murmurs, trying her hardest not to laugh. "You're too cute, darling. Come here."

Elle wriggles and fights her mother's hug, squeaking "Put me down! I'm mad at you for getting a new parasite!"

The laughter escapes at Elle's words, and Effie giggles "My precious baby girl, you're not a parasite, and nor is the baby. You'll love the baby when it arrives. You shouldn't be upset by getting a little sibling."

"How did you learn about parasites, Elle?" Haymitch wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes.

"We were learning about them in biology," Elle says, trying to squirm away from her mother, making tiny, squeaking grunts. "Mommy, put me down! I'm mad at you!"

"Stop fighting the hugs, little baby," Effie chuckles, kissing Elle's face gently. "I still love you just as much. There's no need to be jealous of the baby."

"I'm not worried about that!" Elle shouts, squirming. "Put me down!"

"What _are_ you worried about, then?" Effie asks, clinging on.

Elle's eyes flicker to her father and back to the ceiling, but it's enough for Effie to get what she means. "Put me down," Elle grumbles.

"No," Effie replies. "Your daddy will still love you just as much as he does now. You're his little Peanut. Nobody can replace you."

Elle goes limp in her mother's arms and softly mumbles "But what if the baby's a girl? She'll be Daddy's Peanut then."

Effie clutches her little girl close. "Darling, you'll always be your daddy's Peanut," she murmurs. "Nobody can take your place as your daddy's Peanut."

"Your mom was afraid that you'd take her place as my Bug," Haymitch offers, taking the soup off the stove to cuddle his wife and daughter. "Even if the baby's a girl, she's not going to be my Bug or my Peanut, because I've already got you both. She'll get her name when she's born, just like you did."

"I still don't want it," Elle huffs. "It's not fair. Why should we have to have a baby?"

"Well, darling, we did such a good job with you, we wanted two," Effie says gently. "And you never know, darling, the baby might be another little girl for you to play with. Wouldn't you like that?"

"I might if it's a boy," Elle says. "I hope it is."

Haymitch grins. "Then I'll finally have a guy to side with me when you two want to cover the house in pink glitter," he chuckles. "I'm kind of outnumbered at the minute."

Effie laughs and says "This child will know that Mommy's always right, honey. Just like our little Peanut here does."

"I'm doomed," Haymitch chuckles, then takes Elle. "I'm keeping this. Come on, Peanut, we'll go out today and get ice cream, yeah?"

"Okay," Elle agrees, cuddling up to her father. "As long as you don't ever let the new baby take my place."

"Nobody could ever replace you, Peanut," he promises. "Not even your little brother or sister."

Effie grins and kisses them both. "If you two are quite done, I'm going to go and sit down. I like getting the house to myself," she says.

"You're not coming?" Haymitch asks.

"Not a chance," Effie chuckles. "I'm staying right here. I'd like to get this house tidied up."

"You're going to sit down and have tea," Elle giggles. "You always do when Daddy and I go out."

"Prove it," Effie laughs. "If you can, then I'll admit defeat."

As Effie goes to sit down, Elle looks at her father and asks "Daddy, will you still play with me when the baby comes?"

"I'll always play with you, Peanut. You don't need to worry about that," he tells her. "The baby won't take us away from you."

* * *

 _A/N 2: There we go. I don't know whether this is exactly what you meant by "mad" but I hope this works for you. As always, if you have constructive criticism, prompts, or thoughts to share, please feel free to post them to me in a review or a private message. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx_


	51. Still Don't Want It

_This is a request from a guest, who wanted to see Hayffie having our beautiful Peanut and trying to cope with Effie's second pregnancy at the same time.. Hope you enjoy. xxx_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like playing around with her characters.**

 **Still Don't Want It**

 _"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"_

Effie bolts upright in bed, gasping for air, her hand over her stomach. At eight months pregnant, even sitting up causes her to become breathless. "Haymitch?" she squeaks, shaking her husband's shoulder.

"What?" Haymitch grumbles. "I'm asleep, Eff."

 _"Mommy!"_

"Elle," Effie groans, swinging her legs out of bed and pushing herself up as fast as she can without hurting herself. She waddles out of the room, too ready for her second child to decide it's ready for birth. She waddles across the hall, rubbing her eyes sleepily, and waddles into her daughter's room, flicking on the light. "What's the matter, baby girl?"

Elle sobs "He's coming, Mommy."

"Who is, beautiful?" Effie asks, lowering herself onto her daughter's bed to cuddle her.

"The baby," Elle sobs, cuddling up to her mother in an awkward curl to avoid accidentally knee-butting her mother's stomach. "It's coming for me, Mommy."

"The baby's not coming to get you, baby," Effie sighs. "Do you want to come and sleep with Daddy and me in our bed, sweetheart?"

"Mm hmm," Elle whimpers. "I don't want to be got."

"It'll all be okay, baby. Anyone coming to get you will have to go through Daddy and me first," she hums, picking her ten year old daughter up, given that Elle is still extremely light,and she carries her back across the hall then enters the bedroom to find Haymitch wide awake and holding two mugs of tea and a glass of milk. Effie sighs "Honey, why are you up?"

"You woke me," he says. "I figured, since Madam was screaming, we should all have a drink, and you should put her down. You don't want your water to break so soon."

"No, _you_ don't want my water to break," Effie grumbles. "I'm _ready_ to have this baby."

She sits down with Elle, cuddling her close. Haymitch hands the milk to Elle, and kisses his wife as he hands her a mug of tea. "You're mad," Haymitch sighs. "This pregnancy's been even easier for you than the one you had with Elle."

"Well, I knew what to expect with this one. With Elle, I was confused," Effie replies, sipping her tea. "Oh, that is wonderful! Such a relief!"

"You're still as dramatic as you were when I met you," Haymitch chuckles, then kisses her nose before he sits beside her to look at his daughter. "How are you feeling, Peanut?"

Elle yawns, then crawls over to him, snuggling up to him. "Cold," she replies softly, tugging his arm around her. "Very cold."

"You're just like your mommy," Haymitch chuckles. "Always cold."

Effie beams. "That's the thing that reassures me of her being mine. She's got my lizard blood," she giggles proudly.

Haymitch chuckles, cuddling his daughter. "Hey, have you finally come around to being a big sister yet, Peanut?" he asks, kissing her forehead.

"I still don't want it," Elle huffs. "It's mean. It won't let me cuddle Mommy. It kicks me when I try, and it's trying to get me."

Effie smiles slightly. "It won't kick you like that when it's born, my darling girl, nor will it try to get you. It'll be too small to. It'll be up to you to teach it to be big and strong," she tells her. "Do you think you can do that?"

"No, because I'm selling it," Elle mutters. "It'll mean money and no annoying baby."

Haymitch squeezes Elle softly. "No, you won't, Peanut. You'll love Nugget just as much as we do," he tells her. "You'll be the best big sister in the world."

"No," Elle huffs. "I don't want a sibling."

Haymitch and Effie share a long-suffering look, and drink their tea while their daughter falls asleep, muttering how much she doesn't want a baby in the house. Once she's sleeping soundly, Haymitch looks at his wife and asks "What's the betting she takes over and acts like a second mother to Nugget?"

"Reasonably good odds," Effie chuckles. "She wants it really, she just won't enjoy not being the littlest member of our little family any more."

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Well, I hope you liked that! As usual, if you have anything you'd like to see, please leave them in a review, PM me, tweet me, or DM me on Twitter at BlackCatS46. Much love and happiness to you all. Cat xxx**_


	52. The Many Faults of District 13

_A/N: Hey, everyone, welcome back. This prompt is from a Guest reader who requested "_ Can you please do one when Effie is pregnant dealing wth cravings in district 13? _" Well, here it is._ _Enjoy._

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, its plot, characters or world because I am not Suzanne Collins. :(_**

 **The Many Faults of District 13**

"Haymitch!"

The sharp hiss jolts Haymitch out of a relatively peaceful sleep, and the icy little hand of Effie Trinket shaking his shoulder doesn't help him ignore her. "What now?" he mutters.

"That's _no_ way to talk to the mother of your child," she hisses. "And I'm hungry."

"Sweetheart, I told you that if you didn't eat your dinner, you'd be hungry. You chose not to listen to me," he grumbles. "Now go to sleep."

"I _can't_ sleep, you insufferable meanie," Effie hisses, and Haymitch can _hear_ her pouting. "Your baby is demanding that I eat now, _and_ it wants chips. Sour cream and onion chips. I blame you."

"Sure," Haymitch mutters. "You're in a place that's never so much as _seen_ a sour cream and onion chip in a picture. What makes you think you can just have them on a whim?"

She drags his hand to her stomach and says "The little human that _you_ put into me says I can have the chips. Now, I need directions. Who do I have to abuse just to get the chips? I'm a hungry woman, and _your_ baby won't let me sleep unless I feed it."

"Princess, if I remember correctly, _you_ were an eager participant in making the baby, and I also think you wanted to keep it. You're keeping it, so now you have to live with the fact that you're having cravings," Haymitch mumbles, falling asleep again. "Now _sleep,_ some of us are actually tired."

"I hate you," Effie mutters. "You could just tell me who I need to beat up for the chips, and then you wouldn't have a problem. You're very unhelpful."

"You're the one waking me at unholy hours to whine about being hungry when you didn't eat," he mutters. "Now go to sleep. Maybe you'll actually eat tomorrow if you learn your lesson tonight."

"You're just going to let this baby starve. Why am I not surprised?" Effie grumbles.

"I'm the one who told you to eat. You're the one who didn't eat, which makes _you_ the one starving the baby," Haymitch tells her.

"I'm _pregnant_ , how many pregnant women do you know who eat at regular times?" she huffs. "I give up. I'm telling these cave-dwelling nitwits about this child, and who they can blame for its existence, and what they can do to shut me up."

"How about smothering you with a pillow?" he mutters. "Go to sleep and stop blabbering on. Some of us have briefings and meetings all day tomorrow, starting at six and ending maybe never."

Effie makes an annoyed noise and gets out of bed. "Fine, sleep as much as you like," she huffs. "I'm going to sit in the bathroom and pout until this sort of nonsense subsides."

"Take a blanket, you'll get cold," he mutters.

"I don't care," she grumbles under her breath. "It'll take my mind off food."

Haymitch hears the bathroom door close and lock, and soft grumbles from Effie. After a few minutes of this, he hears her teeth starting to clatter together and gets up. He walks to the door and knocks on it softly. "Princess, open up," he sighs.

She does, then steps out of the bathroom. "Okay, now you can go," she mutters, hugging herself in attempt to warm up.

"I came to bring you back to bed, Frosty," he mutters, pulling her close. "It's no good for you to freeze to death."

She snuggles up to him and whispers "I'm still mad, I'm just cold."

"Whatever, Effs. Bed," he says, scooping her up and carrying her to bed. "And tomorrow, if you eat properly, I'll talk to Coin about getting you some relief from these nasty cravings."

"Now I'm less mad," she purrs, cuddling him.

"I'm not looking forward to another seven months of this," Haymitch mutters. "And don't think we're having more than one child, Trinks, because we're not. This is the only baby you're having with me."

"That's fine, I don't want to go through this again. One baby will always be just enough for me," she says. "Unless we get a kitten, because I'm happy to have a cat."

He lies her back in bed and kisses her lips. "Go to sleep, you annoying creature," he tells her, climbing into bed with her.

"Don't call me annoying when the baby's around," she huffs. "I want the little one to like me. At least one person in the world should like me."

He kisses her nose and says "You are annoying. It doesn't make you completely unlovable. If it did, you'd be safely tucked in bed in the Capitol."

"Stop trying to upset me and sleep," she mutters. "I don't want to think about the city, it'll just make me sad because I can't get chips, and I'm still hungry. So go back to sleep and leave me alone."

"Gladly," he mutters. "And you, Peanut, leave Mama's hunger alone, she's a pain when she's hungry."

He goes back to sleep, only to be woken by the siren going off to alert them to the day, and Effie opening the door of ther compartment, grabbing a soldier and loudly demanding "Where do I get sour cream and onion chips in this dungeon?!"

"Effie!" Haymitch groans. "You're not getting the damn chips!"

"I'm hungry, so yes I am!" Effie snaps. She turns back on the soldier with a dangerously sweet smile on her face and asks "Where's the chips?"

* * *

 _ **A/N 2: Okay, there we go. I hope that was satisfactory for you. I'm going to admit that I've been slow writing lately, and my explanation is that I have not had very much inspiration lately, due to writer's block. I will try harder to get prompts written, but please bear with me if I don't. As always, please leave thoughts, opinions, constructie criticism, and prompts down below. Lots of love to you all. Cat xxx**_


	53. Growling

Hello, everyone, and here we have a prompt that had me laughing at half past three in the morning, from a Guest. Absolutely hilarious, and I hope I did this justice. _I think it would be hilarious if hayffie was having a 'cuddle' and Effie's stomach starts to growl and haymitch goes ballistic!_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play around with her characters.**_

 **Growling**

"Haymitch, your squishy is lonely," Effie calls softly from the door to the hall, watching him as he tears his gaze from the show he's watching to look at her. "Is a cuddle okay?"

He rolls his eyes. Three months of her so-called visit, and he's still no more okay with her cuddles than he was when she requested them during the Games. "Whatever," he grumbles.

"Well, if you don't want to, don't expect me to come and force my presence on you," she huffs. "I'll go and raid your cupboards instead. I'm sure I'll find something nice in there."

"Look, I said whatever. It means that if you want to come over for a hug, you can," he says, worried about the food she's likely to make, eat half of, and waste. It's still too raw for him to accept a waste of food. "If you're going to raid my kitchen, make sure you finish everything you make."

She sighs, then limps over to him. He winces for her, the memory of how badly damaged her knee was during the war also still too fresh in his mind. He gets up and wraps his arm around her small waist, assisting her to the sofa. "Thank you," she whispers, leaning on him.

He wants to complain about having to help her, maybe insult her a little, but there's not much he finds himself able to say. Instead, he asks "How's the knee been today?"

"A nuisance," she replies. "It made that awful noise earlier on, and hurt me something chronic. I think I need to get more pain medication for it."

"You need to eat properly before you can have medicine," he reminds her. "Something about damaging the lining of your stomach."

"My stomach has probably already digested its own lining, to be honest," she sighs as he helps her sit down. She allows him to prop her legs on the sofa and look at her knee. "What do you think, Doctor Abernathy? Is it going to need surgery?"

"You were past surgery when this thing healed wrong," he scoffs. "Now you're stuck with a bust up knee."

"Oh, joy," she mutters, mimicking his accent horribly. "Well, do I need to ice it or something?"

"What good would frosting do?" he asks, smirking.

"Well, it tastes wonderful," she deadpans. "I meant-"

"I know what you meant," he interrupts, then rubs her knee gently. "I'll get you an ice pack, and you just lie here and relax."

He walks into the kitchen, then tugs open the freezer, grabbing an ice pack. He grabs a fresh towel from the rack Effie had brought with her, wraps the pack up, and takes it to her. She's set herself up with a small fold away stool and a lot of cushions, giving her reclining space without taking up room on the sofa. "Hello," she says, smiling. Her eyes land on the ice pack and her smile softens. "Oh, you are a darling."

"Don't make a fuss, it's an ice pack," he says, sorting her out so that the ice pack isn't at risk of falling off her leg. He sits beside her, close enough to initiate a cuddle if the desire presents itself again. "How do you feel? Anything else aching?"

"Just the crushing loneliness that I'll never be rid of. Other than that, I feel great," she says, uncharacteristically bitter.

"Wow, you're a bundle of joy tonight," Haymitch remarks flatly. "Not your best attitude, though."

She sighs sadly and says "I suppose I'm being a bit of a nuisance tonight. Bothering you this way, making you move, threatening to eat your food."

"You only ever eat half of what you make anyway," he says. "Waste of food when it's not eaten, and you go to make more."

"You'd think that being starved would have made me better at being less wasteful," she mutters. "However, right now, I feel like I could eat a whole meal and then some."

"You couldn't. You'd get sick halfway through and not bother attempting the rest," he tells her, but he starts to stroke her hair gently. "You could do with smaller portions more frequently. You've got to regain your stomach capacity somehow, and while you're living with me, we could probably fix that."

"I'm only visiting," she whispers, but they both know she's not leaving any time soon.

He wraps his arms around her and chuckles. "No, you're not. Three months isn't a _visit_ , that's a _you've moved in without asking me, and I've just gone along with it_ ," he murmurs, kissing her head.

"I can leave if you want me to," she whispers.

"Nope," he replies. "Your nuttiness means that I'm constantly watching for signs of crazy, which is preventing me drinking because I don't want a dead Trinket in my house."

"The day I die will be a glorious day for the world of Haymitch," she murmurs, not intending for him to hear her.

"After all the trouble I went to?" he asks. "Keeping you alive was hard, sweetheart, I don't want you kicking the bucket until you're over ninety and have grandkids. Get me?"

She nods. "I'm not dying yet, anyway. And I'm probably never going to have children, let alone grandchildren," she chuckles. "Good thing, really. I'm not exactly mother material. Can we talk about something not depressing? Like food? How about we talk about that soup that the children made earlier on? Oh, now _that_ was _divine_!"

"I get the vibe that you want food," he chuckles, squeezing her tightly.

"Ah-ah-ah, watch the shoulder!" she squeaks. "I fell into bed earlier on, it's bruised."

"You're a clumsy thing," he says, stifling his laughter.

"My knee gave out," she huffs. "I'm not clumsy."

He kisses her head gently, then murmurs "You are, but that's the cute bit."

She smiles and cuddles up to him, pleased that he's called her cute. In the few minutes of silence, her stomach first aches, and she tenses a little, praying that nothing happens, but to her dismay, the loud growling sound echoes throughout the silent house, and Haymitch almost falls off the sofa. "What?" she asks, praying that it was her tension that made him jump, as unlikely as it is.

He stares at her, then drops his gaze to her stomach. "Was that your stomach?" he asks, his eyes wide.

"Yes," she admits softly, blushing.

"What the hell did you _do_ to it?!" he demands, placing his hand lightly on her stomach, looking absolutely horrified. "This is all because you don't even try to eat properly."

"I do try!" she protests. "My body just doesn't want to work correctly! I can't help this!"

As if on cue, her stomach lets out another loud growl, and Haymitch rips his hand away in horror. "Did you swallow a demon or something, sweetheart? There's no _way_ that's normal! I _felt_ that!"

She sits for a minute, torn between being amused and being offended. "I _have_ tried to drop very subtle hints, Haymitch, but as you rightly said, I am hungry," she says, a little defensively.

He laughs, a true, booming laugh that shakes his whole body and makes him clutch his sides, and tears start to roll down his cheeks. Effie huffs quietly and hunches up as best as she can without disturbing her damaged knee, trying to prevent any more hungry outbursts from her stomach. After a solid five minutes of wheezing, spluttering, and hearty laughter, Haymitch recovers and sits up, wiping tears off his face. "Well, Princess, guess I should feed you _and_ that little food monster you swallowed whole," he chokes, clearly not over it yet.

"Oh, don't bother," she mutters, amused underneath her indignation. "I'll do it myself when my knee stops aching."

He gets up and goes to the kitchen, bringing back a bowl of soup and some bread for her. "I'm not risking that demon yelling at us again," he chuckles. "Eat up, sweetheart. That should appease both you and it."

She blushes and whispers "Thank you. And I have not swallowed anything other than my food lately. No demons or monsters."

She eats her bread and soup, then places the bowls on the coffee table before snuggling down on the sofa, her eyes drifting closed. "Aren't you having a cuddle?" Haymitch asks, petting her.

She shifts and leans on him, yawning slightly and cuddling close to him. "Cuddling," she murmurs, and falls asleep, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

Once he's certain she's asleep, he pets her again and murmurs "You're adorable, Effie. You and your demon."

The very idea is enough to make him have to stifle more laughter.

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that was what you wanted. If not, let me know, and I'll work on it. Otherwise, let me know what you think of this, any prompts you have, and/or any constructive criticism. Much love and happiness. Until next time. Cat xxx_


	54. Midnight Snacks

Hello, everyone, and here we have a prompt from a Guest, who requested _"Sequel to growling?"_ Here is your sequel to Growling!

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play around with her characters.**_

 _Midnight Snacks_

"Shh, okay, tell Mommy what's wrong," Effie whispers, cuddling the crying three year old girl to her chest.

"My tummy hurts, Mama," her daughter sobs, clinging to her.

"Okay, baby," Effie murmurs, kissing her daughter's head. "Sore how? Like you need to go to the potty, like you're sick, or like you're hungry?"

"I don't know!" the little girl wails, burying her face against her mother's chest.

"All right, sweetie pie," Effie sighs, then lifts her daughter up, ignoring the grinding protest of her damaged knee. "We'll try the potty first, then if that fails, we'll see if it's hunger. Are you feeling sick, sweetie?"

"No... Mama, it hurts so much," she sobs. "Peas makes it go away."

"I can't make it go away until I know what it is," Effie sighs apologetically, trying to calm her enough to get her past the bedroom where Haymitch is sleeping off a particularly heavy binge drinking session. "Shh, now, Daddy's sleeping."

The little girl quietens her sobs just long enough to get away from her father's earshot before she lets her wails loose again. Effie sighs and removes her daughter's night-time diaper, which she still wears as a safety net for potty training. "Mama, my tummy really hurts," she sobs, clinging to her mother's neck.

"I know, baby girl," Effie sighs sadly, wishing that she could take the pain for her daughter, not for the first time that night. She lifts her daughter up and sits her down on the toilet seat, hugging her close. "Okay, sweetheart, do you feel like you need to poop? Or do you think your little bladder's full?"

"No, Mama," the tiny child sobs. "It's not poopy hurt..."

Haymitch knocks on the door and asks "What's hurting my baby?"

"She has a tummy ache, darling," Effie says. "We're trying to get to the root cause of it."

"Elle, be quiet for a minute," Haymitch says gently, watching his daughter curiously.

Elle obediently silences herself, sniffing occasionally and clutching her stomach, and then the loud growl echoes around the bathroom. "Oh," Effie sighs, relief flooding her.

"Sounds like Little Miss has inherited Mommy's midnight snack trait," Haymitch chuckles softly. "Wash your hands, Princess and Peanut, it's snack time."

Effie laughs quietly and helps Elle wash her hands, then asks "Honey, will you sit with Elle while I wash my hands?"

Haymitch immediately sinks to the ground and says "Come here, my growly little Peanut."

Elle giggles and rushes into her father's arms, snuggling up to him. "You smell like Mama's cleany stuff," she says innocently.

Haymitch winces, but kisses his daughter anyway. "You hate the smell of Mommy's cleaning products, don't you?" he asks softly.

"Uh huh," Elle replies, then kisses his cheek. "I likes your Dada smell more."

Her stomach growls again and Effie smiles slightly. "How's your little tummy feeling, baby girl?" she asks, as she dries her hands.

"Sore," Elle says morosely, curling up. "I want Dada to smell like Dada again."

"He'll shower in the morning," Effie promises, then kneels down, despite the crunching and grinding of her knee, to press a soft kiss to her daughter's head, then on her husband's lips. "I think we should get some food in that growly little tummy, don't you?"

"Mm hmm," Elle hums.

Haymitch grins. "I wouldn't mind something to eat right now," he says.

"This family is based on food," Effie chuckles, then helps Haymitch up, taking Elle from him. "I think this calls for a full midnight feast. What shall we have?"

"Anything substantial," Haymitch says, then playfully kisses Elle's cheeks. "Don't want my baby suffering any more."

"Well, how about we have a pizza and some hot chocolate?" Effie suggests. "Perfect midnight feast foods. And maybe, if you're very, very lucky, we might even have s'mores!"

"This sounds like a plan," Haymitch chuckles, leading the way downstairs. Within half an hour, they're on a large spare duvet, and enjoying their midnight feast. "How do you feel now, Peanut?"

"Better," Elle replies through a mouthful of pizza.

"Chew it with your mouth closed, and swallow before you talk," Effie reprimands. "Food tastes better if you actually keep it in your mouth."

"Lay off the manners, Princess, she's a kid," Haymitch scoffs, around a mouthful of his own pizza. "She's got years to be a proper lady. Let this one slide."

"You're a terrible influence on our little girl," Effie sighs, but smiles anyway. "I'll let it slide, then. But only this once. I refuse to allow bad manners all the time."

"We're wearing her down," Haymitch chuckles, smirking at his grinning daughter. "If you get that sibling you want, we'll win."

Effie smiles and says "If this one's a boy, he'll side with his mother. You can guarantee he'll be a perfect gentleman."

"No son of mine will be a gentleman," Haymitch declares.

Effie gently pats her stomach. "No, but a son of mine will," she retorts, grinning. "I'll probably end up with a house full of Daddy's girls, no doubt."

"You'll love every second of it," Haymitch says. "Look at this one. She's got you on a duvet, eating pizza and s'mores at midnight. You love her more than anything else."

Effie smiles softly at her daughter. "She's my special girl. Aren't you, baby?" she asks, reaching out to stroke her daughter's arm reverently.

"Mm hmm!" Elle agrees eagerly.

"And this one, we'll have to see if it's a boy or a girl before I can say," Effie says, then tugs gently on her daughter's arm. "Come over here, Peanut. Give Mommy a hug."

Elle immediately puts her pizza down and crawls close to her mother to get her hug. "Is there enough room for Dad?" Haymitch asks, smirking.

"Yeah!" Elle squeals, pulling her father into the hug.

Effie smiles and brings him close. "Mine," she says proudly. "My wonderful squishes."

There's a happy, comfortable silence for five minutes, then Haymitch asks "Would you two say you've successfully fed the demons you swallowed whole, then?"

"Oh, Haymitch!" Effie groans, bursting out into laughter.

"Dada!" Elle giggles, hugging him.

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that was sufficiently entertaining. If not, let me know, and I'll work on it. Otherwise, let me know what you think of this, any prompts you have, and/or any constructive criticism. Much love and happiness. Until next time. Cat xxx_


	55. Haymitch and Pads

Hello, everyone. This is not a prompt, but something I got the idea for from a post on Facebook, and I just _had_ to write a Hayffie thing based around it, because where else would my brain go when I see stuff?

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play around with her characters.**_

 _Haymitch and Pads_

"Haymitch?" Effie asks softly, waddling awkwardly into his bedroom. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," he replies, lifting his head up to look at her. "Why are you walking like that?"

"I've just got my period," she says. "We need to go to the shop."

"Effie, it's been eighteen months, and you've been here for three of them. People in Twelve have accepted your existence," he says. "You're not going to be mugged."

"I know, but I need you to come with me today," she says, her pleading tone verging on a whine. "Please? I'll make it up to you."

"I hate you, did you know that?" he asks, getting up and pulling on his jeans.

"I know," she says, slumping onto the floor. "I'll just sit here and wait for you."

"You could sit on the bed," he offers.

"No, I might bleed on it, and I don't want to do that," she says. "The floor's easy to clean."

He rolls his eyes and asks "Can't you hold it in?"

"It's not like urine," she giggles, her mood doing an immediate one eighty. "I can't hold it in."

"Well, I don't know what you'll do. I don't have the same stuff as you," he reminds her.

"I know, you're lucky. Your stuff doesn't cramp and bleed. It just becomes a post in your pants," she says. "And occasionally gets stuck to your thighs."

"Hey, that's uncomfortable," he says, tugging on a shirt. "Not crushing pains and week-long bleeding uncomfortable, but bad. Are we going? And are you going out in sweats and an oversized hoodie?"

"Yes," she replies. "I'm suffering, I need the comfort."

He holds her hand all the way to the store, allowing her to stop and whine every so often while she squeezes his hand. "You're acting like you're about to have a baby, what the hell?" he asks.

"It hurts," she grumbles. "I wish it was a baby. At least I would have something cute to show off for my pain and effort. As it stands, I've just got several pairs of ruined panties, horrible gas, cravings, and blood on everything."

Once in the store, he takes her around, allowing her to pick out her junk food and drinks, then asks "Need anything else?"

"Pads," she says. "I'm not in the mood to shove a tampon in, so I need pads."

"Okay, go get those," he says.

"Come with me?" she asks. "I need you to come, I don't like being without you."

"Trust me, once people notice that you're in the female hygiene aisle, nobody will mess with you," he says. "I'm not going there. You go, I'll wait for you."

"People will know they're not for you, and everyone will respect you more if you're there, being a supportive squishy. Please?" she begs, clinging to him.

"We're not a couple, Trinks. Just go get your pads so that we can pay for everything you want and get home," he insists, trying to make her let go. "Go on, I'm not going anywhere near that stuff. I know you bleed, but I really don't want to see the stuff you shove in your pants."

"You don't usually mind seeing the stuff I put in my panties," she huffs.

"The pads and tampons, I mind seeing," he tells her. "Now go get the damn things, I want to go home."

"I hope to high heavens you never have a daughter," Effie grumbles, finally relenting. "You'd be terrible when she first started needing pads."

"Good thing I'm never having kids, boys or girls," he fires back. "Go get the pads."

Fourteen years later

"Haymitch!" Effie calls, rushing to the living room with their youngest son in her arms.

"What's up, beautiful?" he asks, looking up from reading to their two year old.

"Daddy, more!" their two year old daughter demands.

"Hang on a second, pumpkin," he says gently, kissing her head. "What's up, Effie?"

"Elle needs pads right now, and I can't take her because of this one being naked and needing a bath," she says. "Can you please take her to the store? I know you hate buying pads, but it's her first time going to buy them, and the poor darling's scared stiff of people judging her. Will you please take her and stay with her?"

"Can't she wait?" he asks.

"Haymitch, this is our daughter. You fought a wild dog to save her. Pads are nothing. Please just take her. She really needs your help," Effie sighs. "Your manliness will remain intact. Go on, she needs her daddy."

"Do I have to? Can't Katniss take her?" Haymitch asks.

Effie rolls her eyes. "And tell our daughter _what_? Daddy's too scared of women's sanitary products to take you out, so Auntie Katniss is going to take you, even though she's just had a baby and is still in the hospital? I think not, Haymitch. You're man enough to father four children, so you're man enough to take one of our little girls to get her pads," she says. "I expect you to be out of the house by the time I get Alexander out of the bath."

With that, she walks off, and minutes later, Elle slinks into the living room, blushing hard, and whispers "Daddy? Mommy says you'll take me to the store..."

Haymitch looks up to see his twelve year old daughter, the very spit of her mother, avoiding his eyes and trying to blend into the wall, and sighs softly, knowing he can't fail her. "Okay, then, Peanut," he says. "Let's go."

"You don't have to come to get the pads if you don't want to, but Mommy insists that you take me there," she murmurs, shifting uncomfortably.

"No, I'm not letting you out of my sight," he says firmly. "Lily, come on. We're going shopping with Elle."

Lily bounces and lets him get up, then reaches up to him. "Up!" she demands firmly.

He scoops her up without a second thought, and sits her on his hip. He then looks toward his daughter and extends his hand to her. "Come on, Peanut, let's move," he says. "I can carry you too, if needs be."

"I can walk," she whispers, taking his hand.

He puts his shoes on by the door, and walks out of the Village with his daughters. Lily's getting sleepy by the time they reach the town square and Elle's pressed firmly to his side, trying to hide from the world. "What's up?" he asks softly. "Do you need medicine?"

"No," she whispers. "I know you don't want to be here, Daddy. It's embarrassing for me, too."

"Am I embarrassing you already?" he asks, kissing the top of her head as he adjusts the drowsy toddler on his hip. "That was fast."

"No, _you're_ not embarrassing me," Elle whispers. "I don't want to get pads, Mommy usually gets them, and I know you don't like buying them either. It's embarrassing that we have to buy them."

"What's embarrassing you about buying pads, Peanut?" he asks. "You need them."

"I know, but I don't like other people knowing," Elle whispers. "It's embarrassing that I bleed now."

Haymitch winds his free arm around her shoulders and hugs her close. "Sweetheart, it's natural for you to bleed. Everyone in the world knows it is, and there's nothing embarrassing about it. Your mommy doesn't care that she bleeds every month, does she?" he asks. Elle shakes her head, and he nods. "Exactly. She knows it's normal and okay, and she'd tell you exactly the same. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It shows that you're growing normally. We'll get you the pads, and we can find what works best for you. You usually use the pads Mommy buys, yeah?"

"Yeah," Elle whispers.

"Then we get those," he says. "And you'll see that there's no need to be ashamed of it. Trust me, nobody will judge you. In fact, most people feel sorry for you, because they know it hurts you, and nobody likes to see anyone else suffering."

Elle nods, but still sticks close to him. He takes her into the store, then leads her to the feminine hygiene aisle. She blushes harder and points shyly to the pads Effie normally buys, then whispers "Those ones."

Haymitch, spurred on by his daughter's need of reassurance and comfort, grabs the packet and asks "These ones, Peanut?"

"Mm hmm," she replies.

"You need chocolate? Ice cream?" he asks.

"I'd like them," she murmurs. "Not need, but like."

He shakes his head. "In this situation, baby stuff, it's need," he says, then leads her to the candy aisle. "You pick out what you want."

He picks out candy for the whole family, just so that nobody feels left out, and lets Elle get her own stuff. "Got something," she murmurs.

"Good," he says, then takes her to the ice cream. He picks up a tub of ice cream, then says "Go on, baby thing, grab yourself a tub of something. Mommy will understand."

Elle grabs a pot of fudge brownie ice cream, blushing. "Is this okay?" she asks.

"I've said it is," he replies, then grins at her. "Let's go pay for this."

He takes her to the checkouts, and the elderly woman smiles at him. "Haymitch. You've brought your girls! Is your wife feeling okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, she was about to bathe the baby when she sent me out," he says. "Thought I'd bring her clones instead."

Elle smiles slightly, and the woman rings up their things. "They are the very image of your wife, just how your boys are just like you," the woman chuckles. "How has she been since the littlest was born?"

"She's been exhausted, how she was with all of them," he chuckles. "She's swearing left and right that she's never having more, but she's said that with all of them."

The woman laughs and says "Four's a good number."

"I'll say," he chuckles. "I think she's right to not want more. Her body might give up if she has any more."

Elle smiles. "Four half-Abernathy, half-Trinket people is enough. I'm kind of surprised that she wanted more than Zach, to be honest," she says softly.

"So am I, but I'm glad she did," Haymitch chuckles, packing their groceries into a bag, then passes Elle a few notes. "Will you pay, Peanut? I've only got the one hand."

Elle smiles shyly as she hands the notes over for their groceries. "Here you go," she whispers.

The woman smiles back at her. "Thank you, sweetheart," she says fondly, taking the money from her. She counts change, then prints the receipt, handing her both. "There you go, dear. I hope you have a good day."

Haymitch smiles at her, then picks up the bag. "Thanks. Come on, Peanut," he says.

"Okay," Elle says, then grins at the elderly woman. "Thank you."

"Thank you," the woman says. "Send my love to your wife and your boys!"

"I will, thanks," Haymitch says, grinning over his shoulder.

* * *

That night, in their room, Haymitch is in bed, watching Effie brushing her hair. "I'm proud of you," Effie says.

"How come?" he asks, taken aback by this.

"What you said to Elle earlier," she replies, a smile on her lips. "You made her feel better about going out to get her pads. She told me that she'd thought you'd think her disgusting if she mentioned having periods, and you completely shocked her and made her feel better about herself. She said you were okay to buy her pads without even being slightly disgusted."

Haymitch shifts uncomfortably. "I don't like seeing her uncomfortable," he mumbles awkwardly.

"Well, I wanted to say that I'm sorry," she says. "About saying that you shouldn't have a daughter when you wouldn't come to get pads with me. You proved me very, very wrong, and you really are a wonderful father for doing that for our baby girl."

He shrugs and says "Well, when you said that, I agreed with you. I'm sorry for not going with you."

She puts the hairbrush down and walks over to their bed, scrambling under the duvet, then she kisses his lips. "You did far better," she whispers. "And just so you know, our baby girl now feels much more secure in herself because of you."

"Why?" he asks. "What did she say?"

"She told me that she thought you wouldn't love her as much now that she's able to menstruate, and that you'd be revolted because she bleeds monthly," she says, hugging him close. "She was devastated by it and refused to tell you for months."

"I really need to have a serious talk with that girl," he mutters, hurt by that. "Does she really think that I'd be disgusted by bleeding? I've been vomited on by that child, used as her snot rag, her spit rag, her diaper, and her chew toy. Why would her bleeding bother me?"

"Sweetie, she came to me when you two got home, and immediately told me everything," she tells him, cupping his cheek. "You don't need to have a serious talk, she's over it. She told me that she knows you love her regardless of any bloodshed. She was absolutely over the moon that you still adore her. Your little outing with her made her all the more confident, and she wants to do more things with you."

He smirks a little, then hugs her close. "I'm still going to talk to her," he says. "As for you, you're getting hugged."

"I think having babies has made you mushy, my love," she chuckles, hugging him back. "I may be wrong, but I think you're on the verge of tears."

"Shut up," he mutters gruffly. "I'm allowed to be mushy, I'm old."

"You're adorable, that's what you are," she giggles, kissing him. "And a wonderful father."

"I mean it, Bug, shut up," he grumbles, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "Go to sleep."

"Aww," she coos, kissing him. "I like your sensitive side, sweetest. It makes me feel all fuzzy and warm. I hardly ever get to see your soft side. Only our children have ever made you this soft and gooey, and it's nice to know that they mean this much to you."

"They're your hell spawn, it's the Effie genetics," he mumbles. "It's all your fault. You shouldn't have made them so damn perfect."

"I should have made them more perfect," she argues. "They bring out the softer side in you, and it's sexy. I love seeing you be a daddy, and I really love seeing you be all mushy over our babies. You might get a fifth, sixth, seventh, and possibly even eighth out of me if you keep being mushy."

"Oh, hell no," he groans, slumping down. "I'm getting sterilised. We are not having eight children, Effie. No. I'm happy with the ones we have."

She starts laughing, doubling over with the force of her laughter. "Oh, my love, you should see your face!" she chokes. "Oh, I do love it when you take my nonsense seriously!"

"You breed like a rabbit, Bug, that's a very real threat! No more baby Bugs, I can't cope!" he groans, lying down and covering his face with a pillow. "I'm going to book myself in at the clinic, I don't trust myself with your uterus."

He tries his best to go to sleep while Effie shakes with silent and uncontrollable laughter, and focuses on having a talk with his eldest daughter the next morning.

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that was sufficiently entertaining. If not, let me know. I honestly cried a bit writing this, and since it's midnight for me, that's probably a sign that I should sleep, haha. Anyway, let me know what you think of this, any prompts you have, and/or any constructive criticism. Much love and happiness. Until next time. Cat xxx_


	56. Telling Elle

Hello, everyone. This is a prompt from the lovely Effiecinna, who asked "Can you please do one when Effie has to tell Elle that Seneca is her father and Effie is pregnant again?" So here it is.

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play around with her characters.**_

 _Telling Elle_

All day long, Elle Abernathy has been quiet. It's been weird for her parents, who are used to their seven year old daughter following them and babbling at top speeds, something Haymitch swears she got from her mother, and they find it worrying that she hasn't spoken to them. Haymitch had tried asking what was wrong, but he'd only got a shrug in response, and when he'd told his wife, she'd simply shaken her head and said "She'll talk to us when she's ready, my darling. She's very much like you in that respect, she needs her thinking space before she can tell us anything."

Two hours after that, Elle creeps into the living room, a sad look on her face as she kicks at the carpet, and asks "Mommy?"

Effie looks up from the book she's reading, and upon spotting her daughter's sad expression, starts to worry. "Jelly, what is it?" she asks.

"It's about Daddy," Elle whispers.

"What about Daddy, my sweet?" Effie asks gently. "Come sit with me."

Elle scuffs her feet on the ground as she approaches the sofa and sits down beside her mother, then softly asks "Am I his daughter, Mommy?"

Effie closes her eyes for a second,unsure how to approach this topic, then grits her teeth and says "Not by blood, no."

Elle stiffens, then asks "Whose daughter am I? Who is my real daddy?"

"Your blood father was a man named Seneca Crane. He didn't really want to be with either of us, but if he hadn't died just after I told him I was pregnant with you, he would have stayed for you. But he died just after I told him about you, and the man you know as your daddy took us in. For all intents and purposes, Haymitch is your daddy. He gave us his name, his heart, his home, everything. He loves you just as much as he loves your brother, and this little one here," she tells her, reaching out to her. "I don't think you would have liked your blood father very much, though. Not like you love Daddy."

"But he's not my daddy," Elle whispers, and the absolute devastation on her tiny face crushes her mother. "He's not my daddy for real. I'm not his baby."

Effie hugs her daughter close and whispers "Yes you are. He was by my side while I carried you, he helped me while you grew, he watched you come into this world, he changed your diapers, he cleaned your sick, he wiped your nose, he dragged us to the clinic thousands of times because you got colds and tummy aches, he's the first to panic if something hurts you, he's cuddled you when you've needed cuddled, he's wiped up your tears, he's bathed you, he's taken you out, he's fed you, he's played with you, he's the one who gives in to your every whim, he comforted you when Zachary was born, he's given you everything he has and more, he's protected you, he's loved you, and he always will. He is your father in every way that counts. He'll always be there for you, my darling Jelly. Haymitch is your daddy, and he always will be. It's only biology that makes a human, but it's love that makes a family. Try to remember that."

Elle snuggles up to Effie and quietly asks "Does he love Zach and the baby more because they're his?"

"No, my darling, he loves all of you equally, because you're all his. You, Zachary, and Baby," she says softly, kissing her daughter.

"I don't have favourites with my kids," Haymitch says. "Is this why you were so quiet with me earlier?"

"Uh huh," Elle whispers. "I didn't want to upset you. I didn't want to ask you if you're really my daddy, and now that I know you're not-"

"You're only not his daughter biologically," Effie says firmly. "In every way that counts, this man is your daddy."

"Any guy can be a father, Elle," Haymitch says.

"And it takes a very powerful and loving man to be a daddy," Effie finishes, kissing her daughter gently. "Go give your daddy a cuddle, my sweet."

Elle immediately hops down and hugs Haymitch tightly. "Am I in trouble for asking?" she asks quietly.

"No, Peanut, you're not in trouble," Haymitch tells her. "You're never going to be in trouble for asking questions. I'm more worried about why you didn't want to ask me about it."

"I was scared of upsetting you," Elle whispers. "I like being your Peanut."

"You'll always be my Peanut," Haymitch tells her quietly.

"Are you going to give Daddy a hug, Jelly?" Effie asks softly.

Elle nods and bolts up, running into Haymitch's waiting arms. "I love you, Daddy," Elle says softly.

"I love you too, Peanut," he replies, petting her. "I'm never going to stop doing that, no matter how annoying it gets. Just a warning before you're seventeen and sick of me warding boys away from you. And girls, because you're just as gorgeous as Mommy, and girls will want you, too."

Elle giggles and snuggles up to him. "I'll have to fight the other kids to keep them away, because my daddy is the best daddy."

Effie stands slowly, supporting her forming baby bump with one hand as she does, thenwalks out of the room, smiling, only to get barrelled into by three year old Zachary. "Zachary Abernathy, be careful!" she squeals, then kneels down to her son's height. "Why are you running?"

"I chasin' bupper pie!" he tells her, pointing to a butterfly that's got in.

"Oh, dear," Effie sighs. "Come on, my darling boy, I think we need the net again."

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that you enjoyed this. If not, let me know. I didn't think that Elle would get angry at such a young age, because generally, younger children are more likely to be unquestioning and accepting. I hope I did your prompt justice. If I didn't, tell me, and I'll correct it. I cried when I got the prompt, and I cried writing it, so if you're crying too, I am so sorry. Anyway, let me know what you think of this, any prompts you have, and/or any constructive criticism. Much love and happiness. Until next time. Cat xxx_


	57. Elle's Admirer

Hello, everyone. This is a prompt from my friend SiziGuez, who prompted "I want a story about Ella nerd, I think she would be the kind of girl who does not realize that there is a boy in love with her, and of course a very jealous Haymitch." So here it is.

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or its world. All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I am not Suzanne. I just like to play around with her characters.**_

 _Elle's Admirer_

The ringing of the bell is loud enough for Haymitch to hear it from where he's standing outside the school gates, his toddling daughter in one arm, and the newborn baby in the baby carriage in front of him, fast asleep. Twelve year old Zachary comes bolting out of the building first, and immediately hugs his father. "Hey, Dad," he says excitedly. "You'll never guess what happened!"

"Tell me," Haymitch says, grinning at him.

"Orchidia was talking to her friends, and I overheard them talking about me!" Zachary exclaims proudly.

"Yeah? Orchidia's that girl you think's hot, right?" Haymitch asks. He's seen the girl before, and the way his son gawks at her reminds him very strongly of the way he himself looks at his wife. "Was she being nice about you?"

"She said she thinks I'm cute," Zachary tells him, looking unbelievably proud. "That's progress, right?"

"It is," Haymitch chuckles. "You kids got all the good stuff from your mom and me, that girl's got no chance against you. Just remember, no cheesy pick up lines. Girls hate that, even the twelve year old ones. You need to come up with some original ones, and usually on the spot."

"I'm not like you," Zachary says, his enthusiasm dimming a little. "You flirt with Mom easily."

"I know your mom," Haymitch says. "I've known your mom for nearly twenty years now. I definitely haven't been able to flirt with her that easily this whole time. I got tongue-tied a lot, but she still married me. You just need to make sure that the girl sees that you're interested, but don't get too attached until you're dating her, or you'll get your heart broken."

As the last of the students filter out, Zachary asks "Where's Elle? It's cold out here. Where do you think she is?"

"Talking homework, no doubt," Haymitch sighs. "Your sister has your mom's work ethic and ambition."

Just as he says it, Elle walks out, chatting quietly with a boy with large, square glasses on, both hugging the books that wouldn't fit in their backpacks to their chests. They approach the gates and Haymitch hears Elle saying "No, because if you put the hydrochloric fluid into water, it forms hydrochloric acid, and that's not safe to put anything in, it's corrosive. If you truly want to go into taxidermy, you shouldn't use hydrochloric acid. You could try formaldehyde. It's really flammable, and it can cause all kinds of problems, ranging from occupational asthma, which is rare, stomach damage if it's ingested, much less common in humans, and cancer, so you should probably not use it, but at least it's not really that corrosive, and you can use it to preserve a corpse. Hydrochloric acid will just destroy it completely."

The boy is hanging on to Elle's every word, staring at her like she holds the key to everything wonderful about the universe, and Haymitch has a sudden urge to murder the boy. "Elle!" he calls, trying to get his daughter away from the boy. "Come on, sweetheart, Mom's waiting at home!"

In truth, Effie's kicked him and the little ones out so that she can take a nap, but he truly doesn't want his little girl near any boys. He knows Zachary won't have any trouble with girls, because he's so much like Haymitch in that respect, but Elle is more of her mother, and forms deep attachments very quickly. "Hang on, Dad," Elle says distractedly. "If you want, Nathan, I can lend you a few books on taxidermy. I'll bring them to school with me tomorrow, and you can read them. They're really fascinating once you get past the yuck factor."

"Yeah, that'd b-be great!" the boy stutters, tripping over his words a little, seeming extremely excited by the offer. "T-thanks, El-Elle."

"No problem," Elle says, smiling. "I'd better go. Get home safe, okay? I'll be lugging heavy books tomorrow, and I don't want to hear that you died when I've brought you books. I'll find you in the afterlife just to kill you again."

Nathan lets out a nervous, high-pitched laugh. "I'll stay alive," he promises. "Stay s-s-safe o-on your wa-way home, E-Elle."

"I will. See you tomorrow," Elle says, then walks over to Haymitch and her siblings. "Hi, Dad."

"That's all the greeting I get? _Hang on, Dad_ , then _hi_?" Haymitch asks, then pets his daughter's hair. "Who's the kid?"

"That's Nathan, he's in my class," Elle says. "He's thinking about taking up taxidermy."

"He's her _boyfriend_ ," Zachary pipes in, grinning.

"Shut up, no he's not," Elle sighs. "Will you stop trying to stir up trouble? Dad, I swear he's just a classmate."

"Just a classmate?" Haymitch asks, completely disbelieving. "Peanut, _just classmates_ don't drool all over themselves when you're talking, nor do they trip over their words when they try to answer you."

"Dad, Nathan has a speech impediment," Elle says softly. "He's always stuttering. It's not funny. And I can have friends who are boys without them having a crush on me."

"Never said you can't," Haymitch says, shrugging. "But that kid does."

"No, he doesn't!" Elle exclaims, then her shoulders sag. "Nobody would, anyway. I'm nothing special, just a massive nerd."

"Hey, you're special, sweetheart," Haymitch says, pulling her into a hug. "And you're _beautiful_ , those kids are always staring at you."

"Because I'm a nerd and they're looking for things to make fun of," Elle says softly, freeing an arm from her books to hug him back. "Trust me, Dad, nobody has a crush on me."

"I'm not encouraging you to go after boys, sweetheart, especially one as troublesome as that one that's drooling all over you, but why wouldn't he have a crush on you? You're beautiful, sweet, and kind. Most guys stop at beautiful, and you're the whole package," Haymitch says. "What fourteen year old boy wouldn't want you? Not that they're getting you."

Elle smiles and says "I don't want a boyfriend, Dad, there's no need to be jealous. You're always going to be the most important man in my life."

"Until Nathan confesses his undying love," Zachary chuckles mockingly

"Put a sock in it, freak," Elle snarls. "Nathan is _just my friend._ Nothing else. I'm _not_ dating him, and I never will."

Haymitch smirks and says "I'll hold you to that when you're seventeen and want to date someone. You're too much like your mom to never want to date, but I'm more defensive over my daughters than your granddad ever was."

"What about your sons?" Zachary asks.

"I'm not very pleased about you dating, either," Haymitch says. "I just think Orchidia's attention is good for your ego. Don't get attached to her, you're never going to be allowed to date. Mom and I are making sure of that. Even if we have to put you both in adjoining towers to prevent other kids getting you."

"Don't you want grandkids?" Zachary asks.

"Grandkids?!" Haymitch and Elle yelp.

"Yeah," Zachary says.

"Wait until I tell your mother what you just said," Haymitch groans. "You're _twelve_. You shouldn't be thinking about that yet. When we get in, you're doing your homework, then playing with your toys like a kid should. And no more thinking about having kids, you. I've had enough worry with you obsessing over Orchidia and that Nathan trying to put moves over on Elle."

"He wasn't putting moves over on me!" Elle gasps. "He's my _friend_. My very much _not_ boyfriend _friend_."

"Believe what you want, Elle, I know what I saw, and I don't like it," Haymitch says. "No other kids are getting you two, or your siblings. You're _babies_ , and you always will be."

With that, he takes them home, tugging them away from the crowd of their schoolfriends by the new marketplace, insisting that they're not getting involved in that rampant hormone heap of teenage deviancy.

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that you enjoyed this. If not, let me know. I hope I did your prompt justice. If I didn't, tell me, and I'll correct it. I'm sorry I took so long to post this, it took me ages to choose a plot line. Anyway, let me know what you think of this, any prompts you have, and/or any constructive criticism. Much love and happiness. Until next time. Cat xxx_


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